The Patience of a Wolf
by 2nd star
Summary: Christine leaves for medical school and while she is gone, the Enterprise is attacked. Spock's life is hanging in the balance and there is a killer on the loose.
1. Chapter 1

I started this story last year. I had done the very thing that I loathed. I left it unfinished. There was several incongruent timelines that needed to be fixed. I have now finished and beg forgiveness for my lax in following through. Please enjoy….

Chapter 1

_Capt__ain's Log 2712.5 supplemental. We are returning from Exo III in route to Starbase 11, where we will pick up supplies and new crew members. I have had the sad duty of informing Lt. Matthews's parents of their son's untimely death. These are the aspects of a captain's duty that I wish I could leave to someone else but then again Lt Matthews was under my command, his safety was my responsibility, and his death was on my conscious to bear alone. A loss of a crew member is always one the perils of being in space. On a lighter note we will be saying farewell to Nurse Christine Chapel, a fine example of Starfleet valor, to begin the next chapter of her life at Starfleet Medical training. We wish her well._

…..Nurse Chapel was leaving to attend medical school. She had already told her closest friends and Dr. McCoy had informed the medical staff. She asked the captain not to tell anyone else, and that it was strictly on a need to know basis. After the crippling embarrassment of acknowledgment of her love for Mr. Spock, and the recent discovery of Roger Korby's fate, her main reason for being on the Enterprise was gone. It was only inevitable that she would be leaving. She couldn't take the stares from those around her, the silent snickering, and sudden stops of conversation whenever she walked into the room. Yes there were rumors, but the hardest part was that Mr. Spock completely avoided her. Their professional relationship had been strained past the breaking point. Even though they were one of the best research teams that Starfleet had, publishing many accomplishments between them, Spock's actions around her clearly revealed his discomfort and that threatened the viability of any normal conversations between them. They just couldn't work together anymore. Kirk had tried to talk to both them together and separately, to assure them that he would not allow the crew to continue to disrupt his dynamic duo in research, but his efforts were to no avail. Now he would not only be acquiring a new head nurse but he also knew that any replacement would not staunch the flow of melancholy from his CMO and close friend... Dr McCoy depended on Christine Chapel as his efficient head nurse, confidant, and friend.

"Damn it Jim, I'm glad she is finally getting off this boat to return back to school. Always did tell her that staying here was a waste of talent. Humph, she was already working in the capacity of a physician in many ways…"

McCoy swaggered back and forth across sickbay, trying to talk himself into the fact that this was a good thing. On his sixth pass in front of the Captain he stopped, shifted his stance, waggling his finger at the captain, continuing his tirade. "I'll tell you, she's top notch; that she is." And continuing on a few more steps, he then abruptly stopped and turned to face Kirk. His face fell as he looked around. "Jim, what am I going to do without her?"

"You'll manage Bones. You always do." He flashed McCoy a confident smile, giving him a firm pat on the back. "She will be missed and I'm sure the new …."

"Bridge to Captain Kirk."

Walking over the intercom, Kirk eyed a sullen McCoy wistfully looking at a duty roster that soon would be absent one name.

"Kirk here, go ahead Mr. Spock."

"Approaching Star base 11 Captain; we will arrive in 45 point 9 minutes. I have sent authentication codes for supply requisitions and beaming coordinates to the Dock Master."

"Very well, Mr. Spock, on my way….Kirk out."

As the exec officer, Spock was aware of every name, duty assignment, relevant background, education and any pertinent information of every officer assigned to the Enterprise. He also knew who was transferring and where, retiring or resigning their commission. He would approve or deny any and all requests for normal crew members, but senior staff fell to the Captain, and medical staff to the CMO. He would only need to log crew changes. And because of that, he would not have to meet with Christine Chapel... for which he felt relief. As soon as the thought had permeated his consciousness he quickly chastised himself for having an emotional response to her leaving. _It is not logical to be relieved or dismayed; she is a crewmember leaving to advance_ _her career. Starfleet wound not be remiss in their selection of a qualified replacement aboard the flagship of the Federation…_

Spock found that this logical recourse did not validate his thoughts.

…_But what if Jim accepted promotion and left the Enterprise?... You would acknowledge a profound loss,… but that is because I am close to the Captain. The cause would be sufficient. I must be letting my human side slip. Yes, a few nights of lengthy meditation will be needed._

The three friends embraced each other one last time simultaneously wiping at tear stained cheeks while laughing away the sadness at the departure of their friend. They would miss her dearly but were happy to see her grasping her dreams. The captain had allowed for Uhura and Janice Rand to take the morning off to visit with Christine. And since both women where due back on duty immediately, they were now leaving, Uhura's eyes still glistened as she turned one last time to smile at her friend of so many years. Christine had asked if they wouldn't mind saying goodbye in her now barren quarters. She didn't want the stress of trying to remain calm and not break down in the transporter room front of everyone. Or in front of him….her mind having already played out all the variations of a normally commonplace interaction if he were to come to the transporter room.

_Crew members have been saying goodbye as long as there have been military or scientific missions... why should this be any different? Why shouldn't I be able to have my friends with me for my final farewell?_

Christine chastised herself for the millionth time since first gazing into those deep fathomless eyes.

_"Just stop it Christine, he probably won't even be in transporter room, won't be thinking about going to the transporter room, and won't even be thinking about you."_

Her heart fell. She wasn't sure which hurt more, her unrequited love for the tall, dark, brooding first officer or the fact that she was imprisoned to that love, unable to break free and welcome another's interest. With her last bag in hand she made her final walk down the corridor to begin a new life, picking up where she had left off many years ago; before Mr. Spock, before Starfleet, and before Roger Korby. The swish of the opening doors greeted her. She stood at the entrance to the transporter room as chief engineer Mr. Scott came striding out embracing an anti-grav unit which carried a strange metal cylinder. Scott was beaming as he directed the unit which no doubt was a coveted addition to his beloved 'bairns', pushing it along as if he was out on a stroll with a baby carriage ready to show off his new addition to any crewmember who even glanced his way.

"Aye lassie, ye be taking leave of us now? Tis a sad day indeed. We will be missin ye kind smile in sickbay. Aye, gonna be a fine doctor, lass."

"I'll miss you Scotty and thank you for everything," as she whisked him into an impromptu hug, planting a quick kiss on his check. "Take care Mr. Scott."

Still blushing, he softly smiled, "And yea as well lass, and ye as well."

Turning she entered the room ready to beam down. Standing there with bright eyes was her long time friend and mentor, Dr. Leonard McCoy. Standing next to him, Captain Kirk was beaming with his incredibility good looking boyish grin. _'Hmm, wondered why I never fell for him. Incredibly good looking, strong, and …..yes, Christine, just as unavailable, you just can't seem to be interested in a normal man?'_ she thought giggling to herself.

"Leonard, Captain..." Chris started with a huge smile on her face, her rehearsed departure speech vanished as her peripheral vision picked up a presence behind the control panel. While she knew it wasn't Mr. Kyle or any transporter personnel she knew, only the presence summoned her attention, drew her consciousness to it before she was cognizant of the action or the mysterious persona. As her eyes slowly shifted to that direction they widened as her smile morphed in to an astonished expression. "Mr. Spock!" escaped her mouth before she could reign in the treacherous proclamation. One elegant eyebrow rose in its admission of amusement to the obvious unplanned outburst.

"Uh, ahem…didn't expect you to be here. _'Oh great Chris you sure know how to put your foot in your mouth ,_"I mean, I'd thought that…", '_shit, just shut up_.' At that point McCoy who was happily rocking back on his heels and grinning like a Cheshire cat as his head nurse desperately attempted to backpedal out of her emotional response. He decided that he would bail her out of the pit of embarrassment that she was quickly sliding into.

"It's about time you came to your damn senses girl and stopped taking crap from me. I know you will do me proud kiddo, you hear me?"

"Oh Leonard, I will and thank you for everything" …with that she wrapped her arms around him. "I'll miss you terribly"... a small sniff escaped as she buried her face in his shoulder. With controlled dignity she pulled back but remained a gentle grip on his forearms. She smiled and graciously leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. McCoy's eyes were bright the unshed but looming tears. With that Christine address captain Kirk with respect and formality. "Captain, request permission to relinquish all responsibility as head nurse of the USS Enterprise and to beam over to Starbase 11 to commence with training. The statement was just formality and time honored courtesy repeated over centuries, probably born out necessity for emotional composure during these times.

"Granted Ms. Chapel, I wish you all the best. Your sensitivity to patients' needs and your unswerving professionalism has been instrumental to the well being of the crew."

Blushing, she managed a shy, "Thank you Captain, it has been a pleasure and honor to serve with you"

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Chapel." With that he extended his hand. Christine returned the gesture, relaxed, and smiled. However, for the umpteenth time she was second guessing herself. She knew that her reticence in leaving was only because of her deeply engraved sense of duty to the Enterprise, the friendships that had been forged in her heart, and the gratitude for the healing support her crewmates had given her when she had joined the Enterprise on a desperate attempt to find her missing fiancé. That same support that had been carrying her through these last few weeks as she walked in a fog with the knowledge that Roger was gone. She wasn't sure why she hadn't fallen apart at the discovery of Roger Korby's fate. He was the sole reason she was on the Enterprise. For three long years she wondered what had happened to him and how she would be able to find him. These last two years after securing a position on a deep space mission had given her hope but those hopes had all come crashing down three weeks ago. Still emotionally bereft, she felt buoyancy in the raging sea of chaos. It was like she could see her grief and overwhelming guilt but it could not reach inside her where it could tear her apart. A wall seemed to be erected around her. Feeling the immensity of unrealized emotions, she noticed that she was holding her breath.

_"Ok Chris you know the stages of grief, you are in shock. Don't analyze it, just flow with it." _

She knew that the guilt that she felt was because Roger wasn't the only one in her heart. She slowly turned to face the one whom shared that place in her heart, the place that had grown as time continued. As her face composed itself in the most Vulcan-like manner, she raised in hand in the traditional ta'al.

"Dif-tor heh smusa, Spock"

The eyebrow struggled against its captor, failing and rising high, declaring astonishment at the flawless Vulcan that Christine spoke. Without a pause his gesture matched hers.

"Mene Sakkhet ur-seveh"

As their eyes met, Christine sensed something else being conveyed in the Vulcan salutation, almost like an apology_. "Sheesh Chris, your last encounter with him and you just can't help yourself from trying to read something into it'... _Inwardly she sighed and climbed up the steps and stood on the pad. With one last look at the three she nodded to Spock.

"Energizing," was the last words she would hear him speak as her heart began to break.

And with that she was gone. Silence permeated the room. McCoy mused to himself how he was going to run sickbay without Christine. How would the crew react to a new Head Nurse? What kind of person was the new nurse going to be? Would she do all the duties that Christine did even though it wasn't her job? As if in answering, Mr. Spock drew him out of his inward musings.

"New ship personnel ready for beam over, Captain. A Mr. Nathan Borrack, security officer, and new Head Nurse, Miss Maxine Platt"

"Proceed Mr. Spock"

McCoy's brows drew together in consternation at Spock revelation of the names of the new crewmembers...actually one in particular...'N_o way, it can't be the same person.' _

Two shimmering forms coalesced into the new crewmembers. A tall, muscular young man stood rigidly at attention. Immediately he spoke, actually yelled with military prowess, and authority...  
>"SIR! LIEUTENANT NATHAN BORRACK, REQUESTING PERMISSION TO COME ABOARD, SIR!"<p>

Kirk wryly smiled, remember how in his academy days, commanding officers were quick to jump on any cadet that didn't respond in the ultra clipped tone that subordinates carefully maintained. McCoy just winced wondering how a person maintained their humanity while carrying on in such a machinist fashion.

"At ease lieutenant, and welcome aboard..." turning to the other new crewmember, Kirk noticed she didn't seem intimidated or even interested for that matter. Middle aged, stout, and not one for cosmetic adornment, she reminded him of a certain caretaker he had known in his youth. The other kids were scared to get close to her yard, for fear that she would come out after them with her broom threatening them. He would stand at the end of her drive and pretend that he did have a care or worry about her.

" I take it you are our new Head Nurse, Miss Platt?" after her nod he continued," I would like to introduce you to our Chief Medical Officer, Dr Leonard McCoy."

At this point McCoy knew it was the same person he had met last year at a medical briefing at Star Base 4. He only hoped her reputation was a misconstrued opinion that got circulated. Miss Platt had been with Starfleet for only 2 years. While she had good credentials, she was an enigma. She was not seen in social circles except for mandatory attendances, and despite the fact that she virtually had no friends or family, she did not seek out the company of others. She had started out at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco under Admiral Borsch. Because of Admiral Borsch's brusque manner and no tolerance for pleasantries, all the other nurses and doctors for that matter eventually transferred or left to do other things. Maxine thrived on the Admiral's dismal attitude. In fact, whatever natural good natured attributes that she might have possessed quickly disappeared. Admiral Borsch was known for his no nonsense approach to diplomacy which was unparallel to every species, save the Vulcans, and his brilliance in military tactics had saved Earth from war several times during his early days; however, he was soon to retire. Borsch's successor Admiral Hamilton had brought in his own staff, but kept Maxine. However that is when things had become tumultuous. Used to sterile conversations and little interaction Platt did not blend in. In fact she had alienated herself from almost all of the staff. Hamilton himself was having difficulty tolerating her caustic behavior. However, she was flawless in her job, more than able to multi-task, but had no predilection for such niceties associated with the nursing field. She was without warmth and empathy, making the Vulcans seem downright jovial. Where Vulcans were devoid of emotion, their demeanor was neutral. Hers screamed inflexible callousness, indifference to the vulnerable patients who were suffering and afraid. Jokes about her studying nursing under the Klingons were standard fare around Headquarters. In fact most Klingons would find her standard of care similar to their preference. After about a year, Hamilton transferred to Star Base 16 to oversee the peace initiatives with the Maldarins and to sooth tensions over treaty disputes with the Andorians. A natural diplomat, Hamilton had tolerated Platt for as long as he could, but a dwindling staff and lack of recruits had left him tired and the transfer seemed to be a Godsend. He took most of his staff, with a few exceptions, leaving Platt at Nogura's doorstep. After a few different assignments, Nogura's staff was on the edge of mutiny. Ever the 'don't get mad at Kirk...get even', Nogura discovered that the upcoming departure of Christine Chapel was the perfect opportunity to deliver his most potent payback ever. For the last week Admiral Nogura had a spring in his step and a sly smile on his face. Juxtaposition to the ever severe admiral, those around him wondered who the unlucky recipient of his wrath was, or what he had done.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 New Home revised

As Christine materialized, she could feel her heart hit a brick wall. It was like the reality of what had happened in the last few weeks hit her head on. She sobered to the fact that she did not have the Enterprise, her home for two years and her family to rely on. Feeling bewildered as the grief and panic threatened to overwhelm her; she stood in the transporter chamber for a few seconds as she felt her anxiety level starting to soar. The transporter chief looked questionly at her.

"Is everything ok Miss Chapel?"

"Oh fine, just getting my bearings thank you. Can you direct me to the campus medical/science admissions?" Christine managed to get her breathing under control but the way her knees were shaking; she didn't know how she would manage to move about without stumbling; giving away her mental anguish.

"Yes ma'am. I will get you a brochure that has a map." Reaching under the consol, the young man retrieved a colorful brochure that folded out into an interactive display map that showed where the user was, and the directions to where they needed to go.

"Wow, thank you...you can't get lost with this." Touching a few spaces, Christine followed the directions to the central admissions office. She had never been here before, and relished the beauty of the Starbase. The designers and architects had created a perfect haven for those who had been deprived of such greenery in their space travels. To spend her study time amongst such beauty would surely encourage emotional healing. All her formal education had been completed on Earth. Her first doctorate in biochemistry had been completed at the annexed site at UCLA. She had completed two semesters on Starbase four and her residency at John Hopkins, where she had meet Roger Korby. She felt she was back at the beginning of her journey, not a continuation of it. Images of those early days at John Hopkins with Roger as his assistant came unbidden into her mind. Chaotic images of Exo III combined with her early memories of trying to secure a position on the Enterprise to find him nearly overwhelmed her. Tears clouded her vision and she barely made it to a small bench that was nestled among the roses that were creatively arranged with other flora to resemble a small park. The bench was within what looked like a small meditation garden surrounded with beautiful flowers and artistically sculptured hedges. Thankfully the flora hid her from passersby. She thought she was going to go crazy. Irrational fears clouded her mind, her breathing increased again and her heart was pounding. Feeling an overwhelming urge to run, she got up and quickly walked down a nearby corridor and disappeared into the first lavatory she could find. Barricading herself in the nearest stall, she fought the irrational fear and compulsion to scream. Thankfully she had knew all the signs of a full blown panic attack, and swore she would have the utmost sympathy for anyone who had suffered from these nightmarish episodes. She stayed there for almost an hour, employing deep breathing exercises, and self talk. Knowing that she had to get to admissions office soon, she composed herself and while still shaking, made her way to the lift which the brochure marked as being closest to the admissions offices. She couldn't believe how everything just seemed to hit her at once. Had she known, she would have had Dr. McCoy give her something to take when it became too much. "No." she thought, it's time to leave the nest. Renewed faith in herself, she made her way across a large open room where several people in uniform were conversing and gesturing to computer readouts. There were several large monitors and desks which were covered with PADDs and computers disks. None of the staff or consultants paid any attention to her. She figured these operational areas were not very security sensitive. With a sigh she made her way through two very large amelite glass doors that twinkled iridescently. This would be her home for the next 12 to 18 months. It would be a very demanding schedule so she put her mind to the task.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 The attack revised

It had been a little over twelve months since their last stop at Starbase 11 to drop Christine off. Now they were heading into deep space on a top secret mission. Starfleet had been monitoring all activity along the Neutral Zone. Reports that the Romulans were testing a new cloaking device; one that could allow them to fire without uncloaking, was having everyone at Starfleet edgy. Every time they got close to a possible source of confirmation, it seemed that their leads would dry up. It was like the Romulans could react before a plan was ever launched. According to Starfleet operatives, the cloaking device left an unmistakable signature in the isotopes of certain atoms, mainly Tritium which is radioactive Hydrogen. New sensor programs to scan for changes and warn of disturbances were implemented on the Enterprise's tactical systems. Mr. Spock had been overseeing the upgrades and had been testing the system. Tensions were high and the crew was hypersensitive to any sensor alerts, even for the usual minutia of everyday updates for dust, comets, neutrino emissions and the like.

"Keptin, sensor alerts have just been activated." Came the phrase that had been uttered too many times lately for already fraying nerves.

Kirk was already out of his chair and leaning over Mr. Chekov's shoulder. The forward screen, usually displaying the barrage of spectral wonder skewed by the warping of space now showed the new upgrades in action. Superimposed throughout the screen in glowing red lines was the telltale sign that a cloaking device was in operation.

"Magnify section 4 Beta on screen...Stay with it Mr. Chekov." Turning, Kirk looked at his first officer whose impassive features were awash with an eerie blue glow from his scanner. Sensing his captain's unspoken inquiry, without leaving his view deliberately answered.

"Captain...I'd advise course change to 237 Mark 3. Probability of a Romulan warbird decloaking are estimated odds of 983 to 1."

"Sulu, change course to 237 Mark 3, Chekov ready phasers!" turning back to his chair, Kirk slammed his fist down on the comm. switch.

"Mr. Scott, I am going to need all the power you can give to the shields. We may be engaging in hostilities with an enemy vessel!"

"Aye Captain...we'll be ready down here."

"Thank you Mr. Scott." No sooner than Captain Kirk acknowledged Mr. Scott, a Warbird decloaked exactly where the sensors had outlined the suspect area. The Enterprise was ready for them and fired phasers. The warbird rocked and a small explosion was seen on the starboard nacelle. The Enterprise continued to fire, not leaving any chance that the warbird would be able to get a shot back. What looked like an electrostatic discharge emanated off the ship and suddenly the warbird exploded with energy not equal to any anti matter explosion that they had seen before. The explosion yielded to a power of at least 30 times the normal yield. While the Enterprises' shields were at full power, the blast still hurled the ship 2 million kilometers. The inertial stabilizers were overpowered and the crew was thrown about the ship.

Warning klaxons were blaring, smoke filled the bridge as the panels overloaded and shorted out spewing sparks and smoke. Several bridge crew members were lying unconscious on the floor. As Kirk's vision cleared he quickly assessed the situation.

"Sickbay...Medics to the bridge."

"McCoy here, I'm on my way. We are hip deep in injuries. All medical staff has been ordered in. Jim, what the hell happened?" Most of the medical staff was injured as well. McCoy was asleep in the medical rest area. Apparently he had a few medicinal cocktails and laid down for a nap. Since the room was severely small, there wasn't a lot of space to get knocked around in it. Nevertheless he sounded as if he had rode the roller coaster one time too many.

"Can't talk now, Bones, just get up here...Oh my God...SPOCK!" As he turned to look in Spock's direction, he saw his first officer and friend lying in a pool of green.

"What...what was that about Spock?" McCoy was frantically ordering nurses to this patient and demanding status reports on others. With a backwards glance to make sure all patients were being tended to by medical personnel, he yelled for Nurse Platt and limped out of sickbay to make haste for the bridge. One last trill on the intercom before Sickbay was immersed in another wave of blood and gore.

"GET UP HERE NOW, BONES!"

Kirk cut the connection and ran to his friend's side.

"Spock, can you hear me?" Carefully kneeling, Kirk held his fingers to Spock's throat to see if he was still alive. Kirk could feel nothing as his eyes slightly glazed over. Kirk's thoughts were running wild. '_You are the Captain, can't let them see you crack. Assess the situation, control…..My friend, oh my friend, I can't think of life without you.' _ Pulling himself to the rail, Kirk stumbled a few steps...mumbling to himself. In a grief ridden haze he scanned the bridge. Uhura was bent over her console with her head in her hands. Chekov and Sulu were still in their seats but the navigation panel was sending sparks into the air. Lt. Compton who was at the engineering consol was in a heap on the floor. Next to him, Lt. Estabar was groaning, clutching her shoulder.

The lift doors opened and Dr McCoy and Nurse Platt came rushing out. McCoy directed Maxine to assess the damage of the two officers still on the floor; he then turned towards Spock's direction. Noting the look on Kirk face and the well hidden grief, he feared the worst. Because no one was attending to the limp form on the ground, McCoy's own heart leapt into his throat. '_You knew this was going to happen sooner or later, the way those two manage to get themselves into trouble,… get a grip on yourself, there are others that need your help...'_

Kirk was grimacing in pain, for he had dislocated his shoulder, but that pain paled in comparison to the one in his heart. McCoy gingerly stepped down to touch the Vulcan. He still had to personally check and log time of death. Jim turned away, fearing loss of control, giving into his emotions. There would be time for that later. He now had to focus on his duty as Captain of the Enterprise.

Maxine did a cursory examination of the two crew members. Without so much as smiling she rattled off their injuries in a mechanical way. Feeling Lieutenant Estabar's shoulder, she gave no eye contact or asked if her ministrations hurt at all. Poking in one spot, the lieutenant gasped and the nurse applied more pressure.

"OWWWW that hurts!" the woman groaned.

"Lieutenant, please be still while I determine if your shoulder is dislocated." Nurse Platt continued her analysis, giving no thought to the Lieutenant.

"Can you determine that fact with a little more compassion?" Lt. Escobar snapped.

Nurse Platt glared at the Lieutenant and started to continue her examination. Before she could finish her diagnosis, McCoy yelled out to her. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at McCoy.

"NURSE, GET OVER HERE STAT!"

Crossing the bridge with alacrity, Nurse Platt dropped to her knees in front of Spock's still body. Not at all fazed by the severity of the situation, her faced remained neutral in contrast to the frantic doctor's ministrations on the pale first officer.

"Administer 5 cc s of betrioxine and hold this clamp while I use the laser scalpel to stop the bleeding!" McCoy bellowed out, intent on his mission to save his patient.

At this point a bewildered Kirk made his way back to Spock and McCoy.  
>"What?" Kirks face belied both anticipation and amazement. "I didn't feel a pulse, I checked the carotid artery. Is he alive?"<p>

"Barely, he's lost a lot of blood. Jim, the carotid artery on a Vulcan is on the left side. The major blood vessel supplying oxygen has been severed by a sharp piece of metal that must have blown off the consul. I have stopped most of the bleeding, but he still lost a lot of blood. I need to get him into surgery immediately or he will die. At that moment a few orderlies carrying anti-grav-stretchers came onto the bridge. Within a few minutes they were able to load Spock, Lt. Estabar and Lt. Compton on them, and quickly exit the bridge.

"Jim, I am going to leave Maxine here to stabilize the bridge crew. Half of the crew has been hurt, and M'Benga has his hands full with the most serious cases."

"Bones….I thought he was dead. What if my delay in….." Kirk could guess what ramifications his emotional breakdown could have meant to his friend. Maybe if he had stayed and examined Spock more closely…

Sensing the Captain's self recriminations Dr. McCoy quickly met his eyes, "There was nothing you could have done further without a laser scalpel and regenerator."

"I will need a report as soon as you can." Kirk replied, trying to gain some sense of continuity in the situation.

Nodding, McCoy left the bridge to the auspices of Nurse Platt.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 victory and defeat revised

Victory and defeat

Looking at the PADD, Christine couldn't help but smiling. Her classmates surmised by her facial expression that she had not only passed the final medical exam but had indeed aced it. Christine had been studying for weeks, rarely leaving the dormitory. Since she had been the only Starfleet officer still on active duty in the class, she still maintained her connections with Fleet brass. With Dr. McCoy and Captain Kirk's help, she managed to secure a coveted position, designed for her. Of course it didn't hurt that Dr. Roger Korby had been greatly admired by Starfleet's Surgeon General Thomas Noriega and assisted him in his research. That meant that Christine frequented dinners and other social interactions with Noriega. He was quite taken with her beauty and the fact that she was also quite brilliant made an incredible impression. After Christine decided to give up a promising career in bioresearch to find Roger, Noriega vowed he would help her re-assimilate herself back into the scientific community when she was ready. Now that had she finished her accelerated courses, he arranged it so that she will be able to do her internship and residency on the Enterprise. She would still be taking advance xenobiology classes via commlink, but her practical instruction would be via Sickbay. The only reason that Federation Law allowed her that type of situation was because Christine already had secured her PHD in bioresearch and the basic medical prerequisites. She had also completed 1 year and 3 semesters of medical procedures before Roger Korby had disappeared, so now all that was required was the two final years of school and internship. The two years of school had been greatly accelerated. It was the latter that was the proverbial rabbit out of the hat that Admiral Noriega had produced. However that was still another 6 months away when the Enterprise would return. It would have been 2 more years if she had taken the traditional route. She had been at this heart stopping pace for 12 months and had taken practical for the last four.

Christine's friend, Tamara, noticed her constrained but detectable smile and leaned over.

"I guess all that studying paid off big time. You look like the cat that got the canary. So what's that final verdict? Did you get over a 249?

"Actually I got a 337."

"WHAT!, no freaking way! Let me see, there's no way." Tamara cried as she reached for the PADD.

Giving her PADD to Tamara, Christine notice the entire class looking at her with a look of astonishment on their faces. The grades had come in and been transfer to everyone's personal unit. No doubt, the instructor was still calculating totals and grades for the semester. Indeed Christine had received one the highest scores ever.

"You know Christine, they are going to publish a big article complete with your picture and biography, maybe you can tell them you had a study partner?" Tamara wiggled her eyebrows and smiled brightly.

"Sure and I can tell them that I had to tutor you throughout the entire semester."

"Nahh, guess not, but can I get into some pictures with you? Now that you are a big shot and all. You know, celebrity by proxy?"

Christine laughed, "Tamara, you are incorrigible!"

"Hey look at it this way; you are going to have the attention of every male from here to the Benolian system. Maybe I can ride in your wake and catch a beau or two." Tamara was so happy for her friend.

The two friends came to attention as the professor entered into the room. Dropping PADDs on the desk, he came around to the front of the classroom and looking across at the faces until he came into contact with Christine.  
>"Well ladies and gentlemen; it looks as if we have a celebrity among us."<p>

Tamara looked over at Christine and winked.

"We have the unique privilege to have in our class, a student that has obtained one of the highest scores ever on the Medical exam that has been taken at Starbase 11. Can we all say congratulations to Miss or should I say Dr. Christine Chapel?"

A thunderous applause along with hoots and whistles erupted from the class.  
>Christine's face went crimson at the rapt attention. The professors raised both his hands and signaled the class to settle down.<p>

"Christine, after class I would like to talk to you. As you know this momentous occasion will be published and I would like to go over the details of what that will amount to."

"Yes sir." With that the professor gave several research assignments and adjourned the class.

Amongst the chaos in sickbay, McCoy and the orderlies arrived with their patients. McCoy had commed ahead to make sure that Spock's T negative blood and the surgical unit was set up and ready to go as soon as they arrived. Because of Spock's critical state, a separate ICU would be needed because he would not be able to shield against any emotions, thus taxing his already fragile condition.

Lieutenant Compton was starting to stir and being disoriented about where he was, started to panic. One intern came over with a tricorder and hypo. He immediately pressed the hypo into the struggling lieutenant's arm.

"Lieutenant, calm down. You are in sickbay and are safe." The young man relaxed and seemed to be gathering his thoughts.  
>"You have a concussion, but you will be fine. Please do not talk or move."<p>

Because most of the crew had been injured, the ones that were least serious were moved to their quarters. Those with broken limbs and abrasions were moved into the rec room, which had been converted into an impromptu recovery hall for those who needed medical monitoring but were not in any immediate danger. All crewmen had basic first aid and survival skills. Each crewman that was able to walk without impairment looked after others who suffered from sprained ankles and wrists to broken legs that were awaiting bone knitting. They were given analgesics by the interns and nurses and because they were all in the same place, they were more easily monitored with fewer medical staff. Those who needed more attention were placed in the rear of the room and Scotty, whom miraculously escaped any serious injuries, had constructed impromptu dividers to give privacy. Sickbay was reserved for those critical patients and surgical interventions. There were currently 12 patients, two of which had newly arrived. Lieutenant Compton would be moved shortly to the refurbished rec room. He was stable and no damage was done save a nasty headache. Mr. Spock did not fare so well. The torn artery had depleted his blood supply but there was also damage done to the temporal lobe. A small piece had blown off the science console and ripped through his skull and lodged into the temporal lobe. The intracranial swelling and subsequent pressure had placed Mr. Spock into a coma. Dr. McCoy had to get the fragment out without disturbing the surrounding tissue. If Spock didn't die from blood loss, he most likely would have brain damage. Because of a very different brain anatomy, he wondered if he could pull if off. Dr McCoy immediately clamped down on the thoughts that ran through the gamut of unpleasant outcomes.

A very anxious Captain Kirk hovered outside the surgical doors. Each time a nurse went in or out, he pounced on them for information.

"Sorry Captain, Dr. McCoy has not said anything, and the vitals do not show anything concrete."

_Basically she means not to get my hopes up. Why did I leave him when I thought him dead?_

_"_Sir you need to be resting." A young nurse with her arm in a sling walked up to him. In her able hand she held a medical scanner. He suddenly realized that major part of the medical crew was either limping or had some kind of bandages wrapped around a limb or head, but still they worked diligently on patient after patient. His heart was warmed by the amount of dedication they possessed and was proud he was their Captain.

"I will be alright nurse, please inform me of any changes. " Of course he knew that any changes would be announced only from the CMO but he needed to feel in control. Too many things were happening that were not in his control and his nerves were starting to fray. Kirk decided to go to the rec room/infirmary but not to rest. He had a bandage on his head and his arm was in a bone knitter brace. He had cracked his right radius but Dr M'Benga had treated him immediately and he refused to rest until his crew and ship were out of danger. The explosion of the Warbird had damaged the ship in several ways. First the power drain on the shields from the impact blew out relays all over the ship. The port side nacelle pylon had been strained well beyond the boundaries meant for it. However, many of the systems that were not affected did not have available crew to man them. There was 16 deaths, 23 crewmen were in very serious condition, the most critical was the first officer, 14 were in serious but stable and 67 other crewmen were injured and in the rec room. Out of a crew of 433, only 129 could claim little to no injuries. Kirk had refrained in sending out a Priority 1 distress signal and ordered all stop. Rarely would there be a lone Warbird prowling around. He was taking no chances that another one would hone in on their distress signal, and finish the job that the other one has started. It was a risky move, with danger on all sides, but while he was in Federation space, there had to be another way of getting a signal out without detection.

With no one to man them, every system that was not critical was shut down. The USS Lexington was the closest starship and even they were 2 days away. Kirk left the rec room for the bridge. He knew that McCoy would call him when he had something to report. As he made his way to the bridge, he felt a chill running down his spine at the eerie quiet of the ship. The corridors were empty. The lights were dimmed to conserve power. The soft humming of the warp engines could not be heard. Kirk felt detached, in an almost dreamlike state. The quiet was not normal for the Enterprise, and Kirk felt even more vulnerable with systems down all over the ship. Even battle conditions didn't affect him like this. Something crept up his spine, toying with him, making him look behind him as if there was something dark and dangerous waiting to strike.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 confrontation revised

Christine let herself fall backwards onto the bed. Arms spread out like the snow angels she made in her youth, she giggled uncontrollably. She had spent the entire day in interviews and photo shoots. To graduate with one of the highest scores was one thing, but the press had even honed in on the fact that she had done it in less time than most. There had been a leak about the fact that she might be able to do a starship residency. They asked her if she was looking forward to going back to the Enterprise. She had said she would be. Thinking about that conversation, her smile abruptly left and Christine sat up on the bed.

"Oh my God! What if Captain Kirk sees this broadcast? He may think that I am being too presumptuous. I'd better send Nyota a comm. message and explain." Jumping up off the bed she quickly went to her desk and sat down and quickly typed and sent the message. Since she was still active Starfleet she didn't have to go through all the red tape which would have never gotten her message to the Enterprise inside of 2 months. She knew that she would not get a reply, knowing that the Enterprise was on a undisclosed assignment. Sitting back she wondered about life on the Enterprise and how it would be for her when she is a doctor. She looked forward to getting more respect.

'_No more pushing Christine out of the room, no sir!' _

__Smiling again, she left for an early dinner. Tomorrow she will see Admiral Harrison about her internship on board the Enterprise when they make their way back to Earth. Even though that will not be for several months, Christine decided that she didn't want to get too settled here at Starbase 11.

Immediately, Dr. McCoy went to work on Spock. Assisting him, Nurse Platt was quiet with instruments readily available to hand to the doctor. At this point Dr. McCoy sealed off several blood vessels, and to staunch the flow of blood, he would inject a coagulator into the numerous torn vessels. However since Spock was a hybrid he would need trithorozine instead of diethylthorazine. He started to shout out the proper measurements to Nurse Platt, when she handed him a hypo with the correct balance of pharmaceuticals.

"How did you know to mix these? Mr. Spock is half human and his medical care is strictly under me and Dr. M'Benga. His medical files are also under lock and key."

Eyeing him haughtily she spat out almost vehemently, "I have been trained well in the Vulcan/Human physiology."

Leonard McCoy's voice dropped almost a full octave. And while his hands were perched over Mr. Spock's shredded neck muscles, he looked at her with hooded eyes. "Oh, and just where did you acquire such privileged medical knowledge, nurse?"

Feeling threatened by McCoy's pointed questions; Nurse Platt pulled herself up to her full height, and pursed her lips before speaking. "First Dr. McCoy, I assure you that I am medically qualified for this position and despite this…this …Spanish Inquisition, you can find all the relative education in my records. I do not appreciate you calling my abilities into question."

"Blasted girl! Don't know what you are getting all up in arms about. I only wanted to know where you went to school and did most of your training. Your records did not arrive due to some mix up in Starfleet; in fact they seemed to be having some sort of computer problems."

Exasperated with the present conversation, he made a mental note that he would see that the answers that he sought would be forthcoming, but for now his attention should be focused on his patient. Finished with the dermal fusion laser, and inserting a small shunt to relieve pressure, he closed the incision and dressed the area with an antibacterial mist and light gauze.

"Okay that's about all I can do for him. It is only going to take time to see if there is any brain damage. He lost a lot of blood and suffered oxygen deprivation." Looking towards the door, McCoy mused over what to say to Jim that would not distress him, but at the same time not sugar coat the truth. "I'm sure that Jim is hovering outside of the door..."

"If he is one to obey doctors' orders, he should be in the makeshift infirmary," Came the response from the other side of the operating table. It was then that he realized that she had been lurking around the first officer ever since he had become injured. While he silently commended her for her steadfast dedication to Mr. Spock, he also felt a twinge of guilt for acting highly suspicious of her. In a last ditch effort to smooth things over, he turned on his southern charm and good humor.

"Nurse Platt, you have been here for over 10 months...when have you ever known Captain Kirk to obey his doctor's instructions?" Smiling widely, he had hoped for at least a smile if not a conspirator laugh. It was a wasted gesture, for she puffed up her chest and became indignant.

"Let me tell you that if he values a clean personnel file..." her incriminations did not get very far as McCoy's blood boiled. Her lack of subtlety managed to irritate everyone that she came in contact with, and in addition to her inability to be pliant to the situation tired him. She not only lacked empathy, but didn't even try to employ any kind of tact in her day to day functions with others. It was almost as if she was from another world where kindness and diplomatic subtlety was not tolerated. What kind of upbringing did she have that made her so callous? To make matters worse, the current situation did nothing to soften any edges that her personality kept acutely sharpened.

"Just wait a blasted minute there nurse...you remember your place! It's not your business what the Captain does with his doctor's instructions! Is that understood, Nurse?" His emphasized "nurse" did nothing to revise her expression of disgust on the Captain's flagrant dismissal of authority. Dr. McCoy had little tolerance for the woman, both as a professional, who he felt she was not, and for the lack of compassion she showed her patients and crewmembers. In the 10 months that she had been on the Enterprise, she had racked up more complaints from her peers and patients than anyone ever had. The other nurses avoided her at every turn. She was abrasive, and unyielding for even the tiniest infraction. Her mannerism would have made her blend right in with the Klingons, and while she became the bane of sickbay, none of the charges could really stick. She operated flawlessly by the book. Even in instances where the rules were ambiguous and subject to personal interpretation and discretion, she carried herself with authority. This did nothing for her relationship with the crew, they did everything they could as not to cross paths with her. The only other one on the ship that could cause crewmen to become apprehensive at their arrival into common grounds was Mr. Spock. But then the crew had nothing but the utmost respect and admiration for the tall, unmovable first officer. They just preferred to admire him from a distance, except for most of the female crew. The respect that Mr. Spock commanded instilled in each officer the determination to be at their best. Not so with Nurse Platt. She had logged more infractions and notations in the nurse's logs, so that if anyone was ever to review the logs, one might think that the entire sickbay was insubordinate. Even Mr. Spock seemed to avoid interaction with her. This observation was not lost on the Head Nurse. One of the last and final confrontations between her and the medical staff was just two hours before the Romulan attack. It would have been the last; for Dr. McCoy had endured enough, and as CMO his recommendations on assignment of medical personnel were treated with utmost respect. As he recalled the incident, his anger surged again, for she disrupted the synergy that he needed to run his Sickbay and that in its own would be the final straw.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 the morning meeting revised

_Fourteen hours ealier…._

She had come into the morning meeting with an armful of medical files. All medical personnel, except those on call in Sickbay, attended. A quick question about late senior staff physicals were made, and how two of the most notorious culprits managed to evade them. A smattering of indistinctive chuckles went around the room.

Nurse Platt ruminating on their disobedience remarked, "I don't understand why Mr. Spock is delinquent in his mandatory physical now since he doesn't have to worry about being assaulted emotionally by that immature, unprofessional nurse waiting to throw herself at him."

Apparently some of the nurses who used to make fun and talk behind Christine's back for her love for the first officer, were too quick to retell the stories, albeit greatly enhanced against Christine, to the newcomer. But even they would give a month's salary to have the former nurse back. Sometimes karma arrives just in time. McCoy's blood went ice cold and all air seemed to go out of the room. Even though the meeting had just started, it would go no farther.

"That's it, everyone leave this room now. This meeting is over." The tone of his voice was unmistakable. No one dared to linger and quickly rose to make a beeline for the door. Nurse Platt started to leave when McCoy's voice sliced through the room like a razor.

"Not you, Nurse Platt, sit.. back.. down."

Putting on a stoic face, with her nose in the air, she sat back down and stared ahead. After the last person left the room, McCoy reached over and turned off the recording device that was routinely used in many briefings. "Nurse Platt, I am sick and tired of the way you conduct yourself aboard this ship. You actions towards others, present and otherwise, are those unbecoming of an officer, you disrupt crew morale, defame crewmembers' character, and are becoming an increasing pain in my ass. Nurse Platt do you have anything to say in your defense?" Her reply was never heard before the warning klaxon sounded and the Captain's voice filled the room.

"All hands, battle stations….repeat this is not a drill."

McCoy eyed her warily. "Can I count on you in this emergency, for it is an excellent opportunity to redeem yourself?" McCoy knew he was in a pinch and he needed the head nurse, even as much as he disliked her demeanor, she was a highly qualified nurse.

"Dr. McCoy, I will conduct myself in that way which I have from the beginning…..efficient, and effective. I see no reason to redeem myself of those qualities, now if you will excuse me, I will procure the emergency blood pressurizer from sickbay."

As she turned away from him, he could see the cold, condescending look she wore, and he swore to himself that as soon as this crisis was over, her stint as Head Nurse of the USS Enterprise was over or he would threaten to resign. He was quick to grab his tricorder and as he hurried out of the meeting room, he was nearly sideswipe by crew members quickly rushing to their posts.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7 vigilence revised_

He had not thought about that meeting since then or his plans for the callous nurse. No, there were too many more important things to think about. Like how would life be on the ship without Spock? Sadness filled him at the thought, and for a split second he wasn't so afraid of another Romulan Warbird decloaking to destroy them, at least they would all go together.

A passing orderly brought him to the present, jarring his thoughts off the nightmare that they were living in. But a last creeping thought of how the nurse carried herself and the look that was on her face, imprinted itself on his mind. With the First Officer lying perilously between life and death, and of the crew seriously injured, the atmosphere among the remaining crew was subdued and vigilant.

As the hours crept by, new admissions arrived in sickbay, some that had worsened over the course of the day due to complications with concussions, or aggravating already strained, sprained and broken bodies, all adding to the exhausted and sleep deprived medical staff and crew. Dr. Leonard McCoy stood at the foot of the biobed silently staring at the readouts, a quiet vigil for the still form that lay helplessly beneath them. With the subdued lighting, the blue and green readouts cast an eerie glow about the room. He was still breathing, his heart was still beating, but the life force was slowly ebbing away.

He had barely managed to revive the Vulcan, spending the last 23 minutes flat lined, bleeding out till the steady spray of blood slowed to a trickle, a frantic Captain, paled with shock and grief close by his side.

"Hang on Spock, fight for life!" McCoy croaked, his own voice all but gone from barking out orders, and calling for backup and supplies. His eyes were red and swollen and he dared not stop for fear of not being able to continue his grueling pace. Eleven hours later, when the bleeding had been stopped, arteries repaired, and the metal sliver removed from his skull, Spock looked as if his body was slowly being taken over by mechanical and computer devices. The upper part of his body was surrounded with the sterile field generator, and there were metal rods that held his head in place. Several lines had protruded from his head, serving as a shunt for pressure and drainage.

M'Benga appeared at his side, glancing at the biobed's readouts, then checking stint lines, blood gas infuser, and any signs of new bleeding. He knew he would find nothing unchecked under McCoy's flawless scrutiny, but he learned a long time ago, that it seemed to sooth his friend's nerves when he just lingered around, almost as if the checking and double checking served as a sort of discussion in itself. With a hand on Dr. McCoy's shoulder, he looked down at the Vulcan, whose pale green skin, and bandaged head and neck, and wondered if this patient would even be here this time tomorrow. One more critical thing that had to be monitored closely was Spock's body temperature. After losing so much blood, his body was currently in hypothermia, which Dr McCoy took advantage of while he was trying to keep his heart beating but keep possible brain damage to a minimum. Whatever time he did gain with brain functions, he lost in overall metabolic functions. Spock was freezing to death. The shard had disrupted brain function that regulated body temperatures. Until healing of that area, great care needed to be taken to keep him warm but not overheated. Sickbay has thermal field generators that could keep him at a certain temperature, but his body would constantly be shifting from self regulating to shutting down. If his temperature dropped too far, his heart would stop, and if it climbed too quickly, his brain would start shutting down all basal temperature systems, causing another plummet. Vulcan biological systems were excellent at self correcting in all kinds of circumstances but the Achilles heel for Vulcans was cold and what it could do to them. And with the one system to combat that weakness damaged, Spock was vulnerable to a plethora of possible complications that would quickly end his life, thus causing Dr. McCoy further stress. He was already stretched to the limit and he had other patients that he needed to tend to. However he couldn't leave such important monitoring to just anyone.

'_If only Christine were here. Besides M'Benga, and Johnson, I don't know who I could trust that is not already overwhelmed with patients. Definitely not Nurse Platt, and the other nurses are swamped with patients. I guess I will have to make due and pray the Good Lord will get us through'_

Still musing, "We have who we have." With that McCoy called in several nurses and explained exactly what needed to be monitored with Spock. They would take 3 hours shifts, and under no circumstances were they to leave the room unless it was covered by another nurse. He also explained the dire consequences if Spock's body temperature went in either direction by as much as two degrees. Unfortunately, the already overtaxed nurses didn't need such pressure on top of what they had. So McCoy tried to placate them as best he could.

"I swear, if you get us through this, I promised you I will make sure the Captain gets you the best shore leave of your life. Besides I will be coming with you. Any questions?"

A resounding "No Sir!" echoed throughout the room, and with that he went to check on the other critical patients and take 15 minutes to get a bite to eat.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 revised

Chapter 8

There were no other attempts on the Enterprise in the ensuing days. While the crew was thankful that they would continue on, the waiting of the so called, 'other shoe to drop', was maddening. There would be no rest for anyone; even those who were in critical shape, for as long as there was an inkling of another ship, the constant threat of destruction weighed heavy on them. Frayed nerves began to show in delayed healing, for humans tended to unravel when both sides of the candle were being burned, even the notorious crew of the Enterprise couldn't outwit modern psychiatry.

It was determined that they could not stay in the limbo of uncertainty any longer. It was then he allowed for a previous discussed plan to be implemented.

Kirk slammed his hand down on the chair console, and then spun his chair around to face Uhura who had finished trying to get a coded message to the Lexington. They didn't want to send out a general distress signal for fear that other Warbirds could be in the area. Lt. Uhura cleverly devised a way to get a message out, but to do it so that the Romulans wouldn't be able to break it quickly. She would scramble a message to Starfleet, but instead of saying it, she would sing it in Swahili, like an old prayer for protection song that her Grandmother would sing to her. Hopefully they would pick up on the coordinates that were carefully hidden within the song.

"Lieutenant Uhura, remind me that I never want to try to get anything past that brilliant mind of yours. I could just squeeze you! Do you think that someone there will understand it?" Kirk was overjoyed by her quick thinking, and was just beaming with adoration.

"Well Captain, I can't be sure but I checked the duty roster and saw that Lt. Kamau was on duty and she and I converse in Swahili. I made sure that the message was sent through her communications console." She smiled back at Kirk, enjoying his attention. Their eyes locked and something more than a 'job well done' look emanated from Kirk. Uhura couldn't put her finger on it, but the emotional impression set her heart ablaze. A non-committal wink from him and the restless stirring of those on the bridge brought them back to the present and each turned to resume their duties.

It was gamma shift, and most crewmembers were either asleep or were gathered in recreation rooms. It had been over a week since the destruction on the Romulan Warbird had crippled the Enterprise. Spock was barely holding on and the medical staff was spread dangerously thin. Thankfully most of the injured crew had been stabilized, and those that had non-life threatening ailments went back to light duty. The increase in available personnel had sped up the damage recovery timeline quite a bit but the engines were irreversibly damaged and the ship would need an overhaul. A lone presence entered Sickbay, looking through the door to the ship's ICU ward where the first officer laid, covered with warming blankets and sensors that monitored the minute changes in his bodily functions. Nurse Adamson was currently engrossed in the checking of the readings so much that she did not notice the stealthy visitor watching her every move. The presence scrutinized the procedure, the medicines, and especially the timing of Adamson's logging of vitals on the computer. A sharp mind turned and quickly retained all information, seeing the consequences of each action on the well being of the lone recipient in the room. Satisfied with the knowledge, the shadowy figure left Sickbay, smiling and content with the recent turn of events. The corridors of the ship were silent; there was no busily going to and fro, no chatting or having a late snack or conversation in the rec areas. Most of those that had been in the main rec room, injured and bleeding the week before, were now convalescing in their quarters. In fact only a few injured remained as to alleviate nurses and doctors from making calls to their quarters. Scotty had set up impromptu monitoring stations, complete with dispensaries and even rearranged an area for those that were able to get up and sit at tables and visit or play games, but still be separate from the rest of crew to ensure sterility of their environment.

Kirk, who had not slept during the Delta shift, paced in his room, replaying the last week's events in his mind. Why had the Romulan ship being so easily destroyed, almost as if it's intention was not to fight, and why was the destruction so powerful? Also, what were the Romulans doing in Federation space, so far from any outposts or inhabitable planets? _And Spock, ' Spock, why you? I need your insight and meticulous attention to details that could help me solve this puzzle.' _ Too many questions were rising, all seeming like random events that by astronomical odds had coalesced in a perfect recipe for disaster. And with his friend desperately clinging to life, Kirk felt small, depleted, and helpless in the universe. McCoy had ordered him to get some sleep, but as soon as he had entered his quarters, the walls seemed to close in around him. Scrubbing his hands across his face, Kirk sat on his bunk staring out into the blackness of space searching for that which would bring his taxed brain and body much needed peace.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 the call revised

Christine already well into her advanced classes and intern rotation, looked into the mirror and studied the fine lines that riddled her face and deep circles under her eyes that came with endless days of little to no sleep, too much coffee and unhealthy snacking that was required of the life of a young doctor in training.

Smirking at herself_,"Yeah, you're not as young as you used to be the first time around'_, remembering the first few years of her pursuance of her PHD in biochem, with all the late night study groups, and nonstop studying on her own, and how she managed to keep herself looking like a spunky 20 year old.

Those days were much simpler, much easier to keep her optimistic about the future. That was 15 years ago, 15 years to learn about the hard knocks of life, 15 years to realize that just because you played by the rules and expected good karma, it usually seemed like all the nice guys finished last. These past years, she struggled to keep from becoming jaded, for she saw many in her professional career become callous and cynical, living each day as if it was just another day to try to keep their head above the water. Her new accomplishment and pursuance breathed new life into her. She felt the stirrings of hope and expectations that all was alright with the world. That was before she got the communications message that was waiting for her in the dormitory where all the interns lived. Seeing the flashing communications unit light, her face went blank. A dark premonition crawled into her soul, and she hesitated answering it. An inkling had been plaguing her all week, but she couldn't grasp it. Visions of darkness, a feeling of floating, and voices. Yes, voices that she knew, but could not grasped their identity. At times she could have sworn that she heard medical monitoring devices, but she was not in any of the labs or treatment rooms. A voice seemed to call her name but like a wisp of smoke when she tried to grasp it, the whisper dispersed. _'It must be all the stress that I've been under, it's almost like I'm hearing voices calling me. I've got to get a hold of myself.'_ Taking a deep breath, she let the thought go. Stepping to the desk, she flipped the switch and listened and all air went out of the room.

He scarcely noticed the passage of time, but Kirk knew it could not have been more than 30 minutes since he had checked the bridge status. An urgent call came from Lieutenant Bartles, the gamma shift communications officer.

Instantly responding, Kirk was poised for any news. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, encoded message from Starfleet just came in."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant, let's hear it!" A week's worth of anticipation and frustration was clearly heard in Kirk's voice.

"Yes sir," Bartles started, "it reads: message received, Lexington and Potemkin dispatched. Rendezvous within 72 hours."

"Thank you, Lieutenant, good job. Kirk out."

Finally taking a breath, he sat back down and thought about what needed to be done next. Fatigue crashed about him and he knew that he was needed to shore up morale until help arrived.

Rising from his bunk he crossed the room, intent on changing into his sleeping clothes and finally settling in for some sleep. He had almost reached the closet when the ship lurched and an explosion rocked her hard. Kirk was thrown into the wall and not being prepared, smashed his skull into the hard bulkhead. Blood splattered on the wall, and Kirk struggled, to no avail to stay conscience. As he slumped against the wall, the bleeding gash on his head left a vertical crimson smear as he slid down it to the ground. Seconds later the klaxon was blaring and the wall intercom was blasting out the urgent calls from the bridge, unfortunately the lone recipient of the room was not able to answer. The other shoe had definitely slammed to the ground. On the bridge, Mr. Scott had ordered evasive maneuvers and Sulu as usual had succeeded in performing unprecedented maneuvers' earning him at least a month's worth of wrath from Scotty over the abuse of his poor bairns. Alerted by Lieutenant Uhura that the Captain was not responding, Dr. McCoy rushed to his cabin and using his medical override, found Kirk unconscious on the floor, blood still trickling from his forehead down his face. Tricorder in hand, McCoy simultaneously assessed his condition while ordering the nurses that he had brought, to help get him on the bed. No sooner than they had him situated, he started coming around.

"Bones…what happened? He managed to croak out, "I need to get to the bridge!" With that he tried to roll off the bed to get up and make his way to the bridge.

"Dammit Jim, stay still, you got a hole in your noggin that needs tending to. Scotty has everything under control." Kirk started to protest but the blackness claimed him before he could hear the scathing retort from Bones.

McCoy managed to get the Captain into Sickbay and set him in the room across from Spock. Recognizing the absurdity of the unfortunate turn of events, a gloom settled over him.

"This just gets better and better." He mumbled. "All I need now is Scotty to take a spill and I'll have the whole set!"

With two of his senior officers in Sickbay, Bones knew he wouldn't get a wink of sleep for awhile. No sooner than he had secured the Captain, another round of blasts rocked the ship. Crewmembers that were not able to perform their duties were ordered by Mr. Scott to stay in their quarters and those that were able to walk, or crawl to their posts did so. The Enterprise was no better for a lack of words, held together by sheer willpower. Up on the bridge, Mr. Scott and the bridge crew were playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse.

"Mr. Chekov, canna yea get a lock on their plasma venting, it's the sure way to see where they are hiding, the rotten scoundrels?"

"I vill try Mr. Scott." After a few minutes of calculations and adjustments to the scanners, Mr. Scott turned to him with an expectant gaze.

"Son, ye better be quick or the Romulans will be able to come up behind us." Turning to Mr. Sulu, Scotty got up and leaned over the navigation counsel and checked a few settings. With Mr. Spock in critical condition, and the Captain now injured, the bridge crew was feeling the absence with heavy hearts and apprehension. No one was sure what the Romulans were up to but after the first ship was destroyed and now a second ship was present inside Federation space, it was obvious the stakes were raised. The Science and Engineering departments were working around the clock to discover the reason for the disproportionate energy output of the first ship's explosion. That in itself worried Mr. Scott most of all. He had run the figures through every imaginable permutation to no avail to explain it. Were they carrying a new weapon and deliberately self destructed? Was the second ship present all the while? Or was it some random freak of nature? He sorely doubted the last one. Whatever had magnified the antimatter explosion had completely escaped him. And that made for one irritated Commander.

He was soon pulled out of his musings by Chekov's triumphant proclamation. "Meester Scott, I've got it. It is cleverly disguised, but I …."

"Don't just stand there Lad, blurt it out. I dinna care right now how you did it. Mr. Sulu, lock onto that bloody bastard and fire photon torpedoes."

"Yes, sir. Mr. Scott." Was the last thing that was said before a bright flash filled the view screen. Chekov barely had enough time to yell that the same warp core signature was emanating from the Romulan ship. Then Sulu, who was also seeing the spike, without conferring with Mr. Scott put the Enterprise into a tailspin and twisted the ship to such a degree, the crew would truly not have known if they were coming or going. The groaning of metal and klaxons blaring, did not even tell the full story. The Romulan ship had exploded with a force so great that if Mr. Sulu had not turned the ship out of the first energy wave, the Enterprise would have been destroyed. Plasma coolant was ignited and blown out with such a force that the ship looked like a colossal shooting star lighting up the heavens. The inside strut of the damaged nacelle had been sheared clean off. With the imminent danger that the other engine would be overloading, Mr. Scott ordered them to be shut down. They were now dead in space, with no way of making it to any instillation unnoticed. He had no choice.

Turning in his chair, "Miss Uhura, send out a class one distress signal. We canna stay here and wait for another attack. She just won't be able to bare it. She's a fine bonny, but even she has her limits."

"Yes sir!" came Uhura's happy response. She had already scanned for the proper frequency hours earlier and was anxiously waiting on Scott's order. It didn't take long for a response. It would take 9 weeks for the Enterprise to limp to the nearest Starbase under impulse power with a few intermittent splurges of power from the one remaining nacelle. However the Lexington was two days away with the Starbase 11 conveniently situated in route for them to be able to pick up medical personnel and supplies. They knew that Starfleet had received Uhura's cleverly coded message, but any details would not be revealed for fear that they were being monitored. I was sound reason, and for that reason alone it why they lasted as long as they did, for the Romulans were unsure of their status or the status of any nearby ships. Once they found that the Enterprise had been contacted, they knew they had run out of time and would not be able to return to the Neutral Zone without being discovered.

Apparently Uhura's ruse had worked. Her friend had notified the base commander and in turn he notified headquarters. Between the Lexington and the Potemkin, they figured that the Lexington would be able to make it there 20 hours quicker and so they were dispatched immediately. Colonel Stephens from Headquarters ordered Captain Harrington of the Lexington to ensue under silent running and no efforts to contact the Enterprise should be made. He also contacted Starbase 11 and advised them that they would be the stopping there to pick up supplies and medical personnel. But when the Enterprise broke silence, the Lexington and Starfleet headquarters acknowledged the attacks and advised them on their plans.

Medical teams were mobilized immediately, with equipment being packed up to be ferried to the endangered crew. At high warp the Lexington would be able to rendezvous with the Enterprise 23 hrs after leaving the Starbase 11. Many of the Lexington's crew was already rising to the challenge to make the transfer as smooth and quick as possible. Crew members were cramming into quarters originally designed for two and sacrificing space by housing 3 or 4 persons to allow room for the medical teams and injured Enterprise crew when they were rescued. The Enterprise was well known and had valiantly gone into battle and saved countless lives and cultures. It was a great honor to sacrifice creature comforts, only a small price to pay but also a great privilege to say that you had assisted the Enterprise.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 crashing down revised

Dr. McCoy had finished swearing ten minutes ago, when the ICU monitors went off. Two nurses, Dr. M'Benga and McCoy all converged on Mr. Spock at once. The blankets were scattered on the floor, the temperature controls went turned off and the ward's ICU nurse was nowhere to be found. The Vulcan's body could not regulate the fluctuations and he went into cardiac arrest.

"Oh God no…Spock!" McCoy was already grabbing a hypo and loading it with thorazine, while Dr. M'Benga prepared the heart stimulator. Neither doctor looked up; both intent on saving their patient. After repeated attempts, the bioscan monitors gave up a blip on the screen, which heralded a beat from the ashen Vulcan's side. One beat, then a pause, then another. After two or three minutes his heart followed a more regular pattern. They had a consistent heartbeat. After 10 minutes, with enough drugs pumped in him, Mr. Spock's vital signs started deteriorating, even though his heart was operating enough to keep him alive, the sustained stress in reanimating him was too much and his organs starting shutting down. McCoy's face went white as he comprehended the situation before him. Everything they had down, the shear willpower to keep him alive, the inkling of hope that would now make it, slowly disintegrated before him. There was no way he would win that battle again. With the exhaustion of the past couple of weeks still lingering and now that realization that he would have to relive that terror again, McCoy felt his legs going numb and as the split second wave of nausea passed over him, blackness claimed him and he collapsed to the floor.

Christine didn't remember running from her quarters to the main assembly hall where the medical teams were organizing. In fact she couldn't remember breathing. The message that an emergency medical mission bound for the Enterprise was all that she heard. The rest was unconsciously filed while she gathered what things that she would need. Arms full of supplies and scanners; she did one cursory glance to see if there was anything extra that she would need. Former crewmember's faces filled her mind. Who might be injured or worst yet, killed in battle? She kept her fear at bay, tightly bound and pushed into a corner of her mind. She found herself categorizing each thought into speculation or anticipation. Those with no logical basis would be put aside and those whose outcome she could make a difference with systematically analyzed. Christine stopped dead in her tracks. This line of thinking was not her own, in fact; she could swear that Spock was invading her thought processes. She smiled to herself_, "must be my heart has went to my head…he still is a big influence on me. Bet Len is doggedly on him and the Captain's heels and_"…her smile abruptly died on her lips, as she felt a cold chill run up her spine. An almost physical pain enveloped her, and she saw medical machinery in flashes and felt cold. Oh she felt so cold. She wrapped her arms around herself and briskly rubbed her arms to generate heat. She checked the rooster and found her name at the top of the list. Of course they would send her. Formerly the Head Nurse of the Enterprise, who better to know the medical history of her crewmembers. The Lexington would be there in fourteen hours which was barely enough time to gather supplies and equipment and organized medical shifts. They were waiting on the medical logs of the Enterprise to see what would be the most critical medications and equipment to have ready first. Christine was officially a doctor and her first assignment was to assist Drs. McCoy and M'Benga. She still needed clinic work, but this is what it was all building up it. She would be taking all her education, experience and intuition to make critical decisions, without the safety net of her superiors of the former years. But she was eager to go and help her colleagues;… no,.. her friends, who needed her.

Nurse Bergman caught Dr. McCoy before he hit the floor full force, scarcity keeping him from cracking his head on the resilient deck plating. M'Benga ordered her and Nurse Martinez to put him on the nearest biobed, for he couldn't stop his ministrations on Mr. Spock. Together they had successfully restarted the Vulcan's heart and now he worked alone desperately to keep the other organs operational. He looked at McCoy from across the room to see his friend being tended to by nurse Martinez.

_Of course you work past you body's ability to keep up, so it finally takes over. Rest my friend._

Looking down at the body lying before him, he reached for a hypo that would stimulate Spock's pineal gland and froze. As the thought of McCoy's failed attempt to apply mind over body failed, he was struck with another thought that caused him to halt mid action. Nurse Bergman looked at him in anticipation, then as the seconds rolled by, her brows knitted together in confusion at his reticent behavior.

Slowly his eyes met hers and his mouth dropped open in amazement to the epiphany that now played out in his mind.

"That's it! Spock's body has been bombarded with stimulants and drugs to force it to keep going, when it had exhausted its reserves! We need to let it go!"

Nurse Bergman's eyes widened at the perceived absurdity of his statement. "What? He'll die! His organs have exhausted themselves at our repeated attempts at restarting them!"

"No, no!" M'Benga shot back. His inability to convey his plan in one statement was not his immediate concern. But he did want to convey that he was not crazy. "I'm not going to let him die per se; well I am going to let his body shut down…" Frustrated that he needed the nurse's understanding but didn't have the time to explain his rational, he desperately tried to think of an easy way to communicate with as few words as possible. "See, it is like Dr. McCoy! He kept overriding his body's need for rest. And the body, for lack of better term, crashed. Now he is resting and his body is repairing itself. It's the same here with Mr. Spock. We have been overriding the body's natural process to shutdown and rest with drugs but now the body has been pushed too far and is…crashing."

"But Doctor, we can't let it crash. He will die!"

"Yes, yes, I know. But what we need to do is let the organs rest while we do their work, like we are letting McCoy rest, while we do his work. There is an old blood gas diffuser in storeroom 37A. Quickly get that in here while I set up what I need in here!"

Understanding dawned on Nurse Bergman and a triumphant smile emerged on her face. She quickly exited the ICU ward and ran smack into Nurse Platt. Excited about the plan that M'Benga was devising, exuberantly gave Platt the bare details and then skirting around her quickly making her way to the storeroom. Once inside, she rummaged along the top shelves for the object she desired. The box that she was standing on was not very study. Carefully shifting her body weight she placed one foot on the second shelf and grasped the edging along the top. She had spotted the diffuser way back against the wall on top. She heard, rather than felt the box give way and like in a dream she fell in slow motion against something sharp. Feeling an object against her back but also confusingly against her chest she reached down to push it off. A small prick and a surreal feeling made her look down at the blood covered hand and what she fell back against.

'_Strange, I don't remember any knives being stored in here', w_as the last coherent thought she had, as her dreamlike conscience ebbed away along with her blood.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 the first strike revised

Christine stood amongst medical supplies in the Lexington's cargo bay taking inventory. They would be leaving within the hour at high warp for the Enterprise. Engineering teams were overhauling in as little time as they had, the main engines, inspecting dilithium crystals, and anti-matter coolant levels. They had been pushing the engines to get to the Starbase to collect the medical teams but there was no time to rest for either crew or ship. They would just have to hold it together long enough to reach the Enterprise.

Satisfied that they had the required medical supplies and personnel, they began setting up what would be a makeshift hospital in the ship's large recreation and meeting rooms. They had a little over twenty-six hours to complete the endeavor and test the facilities before they would be knee deep in injuries.

With one last check to see if anything was left in haste, the Lexington and medical crew where off. Several security teams were dispatched to the station for monitoring any and all arrivals that were too late or too critical to divert to another station. The base was still that sector's field unit in case of emergency. With a little extra space freed up, all medical personnel were ordered to sleep or at least rest for the duration of the trip. It would be the last bit of respite that they would have before they would be pushed to their extremes.

M'Benga prepared the ward heart bypass for Mr. Spock's Vulcan blood. The last time it was used was two years ago when Spock's father collapsed and needed surgery during a crucial negotiations that would take place on the planet Babel. Looking anxiously towards the door, he called for Nurse Bergman. Raising his voice he called again. Still nothing, and time was of the utmost importance. Without the blood gas infuser, the carbon dioxide would build up in Mr. Spock's blood. He needed it to work in tandem with the bypass machine. Only then, after the heart was stabilized, could he filter the blood needed for the kidneys and liver. It was a delicate process that needed to be built up in steps and one mistake would cause the whole thing to come crashing down and kill the first officer.

In a desperate attempt, M'Benga walked to the doorway and right as he opened his mouth to call for Nurse Martinez to assist so he could go find out what happened to Bergman, he collided with Nurse Platt.

"Nurse Platt, have you seen Nurse Bergman? I sent her to storeroom 37A to procure a blood gas infuser. She should have returned by now!" Dr. M'Benga was clearly stressed as the seconds ticked away, for with them went any chances to revive the first officer. His voice called one last time down the hall, "Nurse Bergman! Please respond."

A calm and passionless nurse Platt responded, "Doctor, storeroom 37A is out of hearing range but when I was coming down that corridor, I heard boxes crashing to the floor. I figured it was just another incompetent nurse and went on my way." With a sneer she looked at the tall, dark doctor and shrugged her shoulders. "I will prepare Mr. Spock for bypass while you go look for your wayward nurse."

Doctor M'Benga quickly ran out of the room. He could not spare any more time. Thinking to him how this would all be for nothing if he couldn't get the basic necessary machinery in place. At least Nurse Platt would be preparing Mr. Sp…..? Almost stopping mid stride, brows knitted together and a few meters from the entrance into the storeroom, he was puzzled. "How did Nurse Platt know that Mr. Spock was being prepared for bypass? Urgency rose up in him, and he raced to the doorway of the storeroom and gasped at the site on the floor. Nurse Bergman was lying in a pool of her own blood, clearly dead. What could have caused this, M'Benga thought? He saw no sharp objects, in fact, the area around the nurse was clear. The box that she had been standing on was off to the side, partially collapsed, but it looked as if it had been kicked in. The heavy plastic form had almost shattered on one side. He spied the gas infuser on the shelf, teetering on the edge as if she had reached it, but fell before she could get it down. Feeling for a pulse, he concurred with his original belief that with the amount of blood loss she was already dead. Dr. M'Benga quickly deduced that although he could not save her life, there was still a chance for Mr. Spock. He reached up and grabbed the machinery and raced back to sickbay.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 foiled revised

She silently crept up to the bed and cocked her head to one side as she took in the form of the still first officer. A small smirk cast over her face as she moved her face close to him.

"Yes, finally I have a chance to take revenge on you, cousin. No, you don't know me but my life was ruined by your beloved Federation. Our race should be the supreme species in this quadrant but the Humans have made that impossible. My mother was a brilliant scientist, a true believer of the Romulan supremacy. But she had one flaw, she believed that the Vulcans were the key to regaining power, and if she could awaken their inner desires, they would join us. Her ideas turned to obsession which in turn became the stumbling block to her demise. The Prefect and council cast her out. She wanted so badly to regain her honor. And that wanting drove her mad, long after her disgrace. Her friends and relatives turned against her, for they deemed her insane. Even after she left to join a colony to live like primitives, married a lowly merchant with no wealth or status, her sole desire was to get back at the Federation. In her mind, the Federation had caused her fall from grace. She believed that if she just infiltrated the Federation, she could redeem herself. When I was born, in her twisted mind she devised a plan that I would be her time bomb. She convinced the officials that it would be I that would bring down the Federation, and she handed me over to barbarous surgeons that cut off my ears and toyed with my genetics. I would be carefully pruned and instructed in the human ways, and would secure my place in the medical field where it was easiest to hide. I was brutally assaulted for looking like a human. The authorities did nothing, and that precedent would ensure my beatings for years. I knew that Romulans traveled to an obscure colony in the Pegillion system and some Pegillions traveled far to the Orion systems. It was there that I made my move, for some Orions who desired to be medical personnel, did so at a school in Altair. With my human looks, I found cunning and create ways to forge documents; to inch closer and closer to the Federation. And three years ago, I was able to secure a nursing job outside of San Francisco. It had taken years of preparation to secure enough untraceable documents to ensure my occupation as a distinguished nurse of much valor. Computer skills helped me to be a fictitious presence in many schools and clinics with off world experience in combative situations. Oh yes, my mother would have been proud of my cunning ways. Her mind deteriorated to such a degree that the Empire thought she was dangerous and while I was away, she and my father were murdered. You see how your beloved Federation has destroyed so many lives? And then I learned of your treachery with one of our brilliant commanders, and how you tricked her with your cunning ways. My resources tell me that she is disgraced and she has gone into hiding. Once found, they will execute her. You are to blame, you and your people. It is now your turn to face your judgment, Federation! Since my mother and father are both dead, you are obligated to pay with your life!"

With that she brought out from beneath her lab coat, a knife that was still covered in Nurse Bergman's blood and raised it above Spock's side wear his heart was.

"The ships that were going to take me back to Romulus, have been destroyed, so my plan has failed, but nevertheless, you all will die here!"

At that moment, her eyes widened, and then a fog seemed to glaze over them, as she fell to the floor with her arms still raised. Behind her, a haggard McCoy stood with an empty hypospray. Awakened by her rambling at Mr. Spock's still body, McCoy heard her threats and stumbled into the room just in time to prevent her from completing her task. At that moment Dr. M'Benga came rushing in with the diffuser. Stunned at seeing the nurse on the floor and seeing the dead nurse in the storage room, he faltered. An accusatory look toward McCoy, not knowing who to blame or what was going on, froze him to his place just inside the doorway. Dr. McCoy looked at him with a sad look in his eyes. He didn't know how to explain or where to begin, but one thing for sure was they had to get working on Spock.

"Geoffrey, don't ask any questions till after we manage, if we manage to pull Spock out of the woods, but just know that we will get to the bottom of this." With that he hit the wall switch, "Security to Sickbay, on the double." Approaching Dr. M'Benga, he raised the hypospray, "only a sedative, she will be alright. She was going to kill Spock."

M'Benga looked at the bloodied knife still in her hand. In a low voice, as he hooked the diffuser up to Spock with the bypass, "I assume that is Nurse Bergman's blood on the knife?"

Dr. McCoy's demeanor shattered. "WHAT?" Glancing at the knife his face went white and he felt the faded edges of unconsciousness threatening to close in. "What the Sam hell is going on here?"

At that moment the security detail came crashing into the room. They looked at the doctors, then down at the nurse, then back at the doctors again waiting for some explanation as to what to do next.

McCoy spoke first, "Take Nurse Platt to the brig for attempted murder." The security men hesitated, but after a moment to clear the confusion, they complied. The Enterprise was a community albeit a large one, but still a community. It didn't take long for one incident to reach the grapevine. Most on the ship knew of the distain for the bullish nurse and when the scuttlebutt over Spock's attempted murder became known, all hell broke out. It was also deemed that the brig was the safest place for the nurse as well.

Drs. McCoy and M'Benga looked soulfully at each other and then together down at Spock's lithe form on the table.

"Dr. McCoy, I do not know why this man is still alive." Dr. M'Benga worked diligently to bypass organs with machinery. The heart bypass was already beating and filtering blood for the kidneys and liver. He checked enzyme levels while simultaneously keeping an eye on Spock's body temperature. Coupled with a lack of sleep, Dr. M'Benga knew he was perilously close to becoming a liability and possibly danger if he didn't rest.

"Geoff, let me have a go for a while. Most of the organ bypass equipment is in place and Nurse Martinez can come here from the rec room to assist in monitoring. You are about to hit the floor."

Dr. M'Benga smiled at his colleague and friend. He was about to offer a retort, when one of the ensigns from navigation hopped in with one leg in a brace and both arms wrapped. With a bandage over his left eye, he looked like an Egyptian mummy from centuries old holovids, staggering out of their crypts. If the situation would not have been so dire, both doctors would have burst out laughing.

"They're here!" cried out the ensign. "The Lexington is here. I overheard Lieutenant Peterson from astrobiology saying that medical personnel from the Lexington were going to be beaming over in a few minutes."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 help arrives revised

Both doctors looked at each other and for the first time hope shown in their eyes. Smiling at each other they both tackled the machinery and tubes that were slowly overtaking Mr. Spock's bodily functions. Dr. M'Benga noticed an improvement in their patient's enzyme levels and the heart bypass was working incredibly well despite their patient's mixed biology. With several major organs being refreshed in oxygen and copper enriched plasma and not having to do any work, there was chance that it would be enough to stabilize Spock. Taking another looking at the temperature monitor to make sure that it was within the prescribed range, McCoy checked the monitor for Spock's brain functions, which were still dangerously low. He was still deep in a coma which if anything would either save his life or kill him. There was no new swelling of the brain and the shunt that they had put in was working to alleviate any pressure. Several new medications were needed to assist in balancing his endocrine system while his liver, spleen and kidneys took a break. It wouldn't be precise but would service as a much needed bridge in recovery. Dr. McCoy looked up across at Dr. M'Benga whose face had just lit up. Following his gaze, there in the doorway stood an angel of mercy. Christine, fully garbed in surgical mask and gown, had just entered.

"Oh my God, Chris!" The emotional reunion had all but undone the doctors. McCoy's eyes were bright with unshed tears. He was exhausted, with weeks of unending emergencies, sleep deprivation, and worry.

"I'm here Leonard," she stopped just shy of the table, taking in Spock's lifeless form and monitor readouts. Taking a quick study at the chart, trying to sum up where he was in treatment was impossible.

"Chris there is so much to discuss medically. In a nutshell we are giving his taxed out organs a break via machines. It is only a very limited time frame, by we had no choice because his organs were shutting down and not responding. To compound matters, there was an assassin aboard trying to take his life. His body temperature system was deliberately sabotaged and the overload caused system failures. We do not know the extent of his brain injury caused by flying debris, and, his renal system…..uh…" McCoy grabbed the edge of the bed. Cleary a wave of vertigo caused by exhaustion hit him. "Anyway, I think we have everything covered."

Christine was shocked at the state of the two doctors. Waiving her medical tricorder over each of them, she deemed that they were both defying the laws of biology and operating on sheer willpower alone. Pushing two chairs close to the bed, she ordered both physicians to sit before they fell. They could talk to her or pass out; she didn't care as long as they were off their feet for the next 10 minutes. Each doctor took turns shouting out medical directives, prescriptions, and suggestions to her. Acknowledging them both and assuring them that she understood what needed to be done, she called for two nurses and another doctor. The four of them would take care of Spock. Dr. M'Benga was the first to pass out. His head cocked to one side and his mouth opened slightly. It took Dr. McCoy a few minutes longer to give up, but he knew that Christine would not let one microbe of Spock's being go unnoticed

Several of the Starbase's chief physicians were administering care to the Captain, who had been unconscious for awhile. He had a concussion and his stitches were strained in two places where he had apparently tried to get up, gave up, and let his head hit the pillow in defeat. Already, most of the seriously injured Enterprise personnel were beamed aboard the Lexington, and a skeleton replacement crew were now repairing systems and giving aid to the crew that stayed. All in all there were 45 doctors and 37 nurses and each and every one of them had at least one patient each. All the Enterprise medical staff, after giving their patient reports, were ordered off duty till the base ACMO cleared them. That also went for the doctors. Six doctors were treated for extreme exhaustion and two had to be hospitalized in the infirmary. Eighteen nurses were also deemed unfit to remain medically unsupervised. All bridge crewmembers were replaced, except for Commander Scott, who let out a slew of curses and threats to anyone who dared to separate him from his beloved Starship. Captain Kirk convinced him to let the Lexington's first officer McCormick take care of her for just a while. He could stay aboard her if he promised to sleep an uninterrupted six hours and eat a descent meal.

Starfleet sent the USS Potemkin to rendezvous with the Lexington and bring fresh supplies, and also so that the Lexington could return to the base with the injured. Even though every medical facility that they needed was brought with them, it would not fare well if the Romulans would show up and the Lexington would be forced to engage in combat with a ship full of injured crewmembers. The Potemkin would escort the Enterprise to Starbase 12, fourteen weeks journey under impulse, where she could have her nacelle refitted. Either way, the crew of the Enterprise would be planetside for six months. No doubt many would transfer off or resign their commission if they could.

For the newly graduated medical personnel, they were being tried by fire and they were getting the internship of a lifetime. To assist with battle injuries automatically placed one's resume at the top of the candidate list in any medical opening. If one were to look closely, one would deem that they were having the most thrilling adventure of their lives. However the crew was skittish with a ship full of doctors and nurses fawning over their every injury no matter how small. A skinned knee would be met with several consultations and the nursing care could not have been more excessive than if they were at some high class resort for the rich and famous. To be treating the Enterprise crew's battle wounds and at the battle grounds itself with possible danger lurking was a rush and a privilege that most would never see. It wasn't that the crew was ungrateful; they just liked their own doctors, no matter how crusty and cantankerous they could be. Besides they were protective of their injuries to the point of pride. _They were the battle scars of the Enterprise! They belonged to the Enterprise doctors!_

In the ship's now lone and quiet Sickbay only a few still remained. It was deemed that Mr. Spock be the last to be moved. He was cared for by the base's top doctors. The only medical graduate that was allowed access to him was Nurse-now Dr. Chapel, which she was deemed his presiding physician due to her experience with his physiology. She would be overseen by her base superiors and Dr. M'Benga till Dr. McCoy was released from the Lexington's Sickbay, which had to be soon since their medical staff feared to go near him. After twenty four hours had passed, and Dr. McCoy out of Sickbay on bail, they concluded that it was safe as it could be to move the first officer from the Enterprise to the Lexington. The news reached them that the Potemkin would be arriving within the hour and to have all patients and departing crew on the Lexington ready to warp out. As soon as Spock was secured in the makeshift ICU, the Lexington prepared for departure. Dr. McCoy along with Captain Kirk, Scotty, and Lieutenant Sulu would remain behind with the replacement crew. Most of the rest would be relocated on Starbase 11 until transfers could be arranged to get them to their next assignment. Dr. M'Benga would go with Mr. Spock on the Lexington. Nurse Platt would be transferred to the brig on the Lexington. She would be met by a prisoner transport vehicle shortly after the medical crew and patients were offloaded to take her to Epsilon 5's security facility and wait for the hearings to begin.

After the Potemkin arrived, the ships started their prospective journeys. The Potemkin and the Enterprise started to Starbase 12 and the Lexington to Starbase 11. On the Enterprise Bridge, Kirk settled in his chair with a somber look. It was good to be moving again, even at the crawl, however, the fate of his first officer was undetermined and it weighed on him heavily. With no one in Sickbay for the first time in weeks, McCoy took to casual stroll on the bridge. Passing by the science console, his gaze fell about the shiny new piece of plating that had previously been blown off. The science officer sensed his presence and turned to face him.

"Science officer, Kantar Sir."

"Hiya, how's it going here?"

"We got the station right as rain here, sir." Lt. Kantar smiled brightly at Dr. McCoy, but failed to get a response. A cloud seemed to descend over McCoy, bringing a feeling of despair and guilt.

"Son, until you sprout pointed ears and have the ability to make me want to hit you upside your head, it will never be alright."

The poor Lieutenant didn't know what to say. He just hung his head and mumbled a quick, "Yes sir, sorry sir."

A quiet figure sat and observed the exchange but did not say anything right away. Barely whispering, "Bones, take it easy. What brings you up here, anyway?"

"What? Can't the ship's CMO take a leisurely stroll about to see how the crew is doing?"

Not answering, Kirk turned and faced the view screen. He was tired; not from lack of sleep, but of being on edge. Dividing his thoughts among the ship, possible attack, crew and his absent friend was wearing heavy on his mind. Dr. McCoy sensed his worry, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He's in good hands Jim. In fact I can think of no one better to watch over him than Christine."

Realizing the fact that Spock would be watched over by Christine, Kirk's countenance brightened immediately. "Yeah, that's right Bones. She is a doctor now and Spock is her first patient. Who would have thought?"

"Me, that's who! Because other than this opportunity; as soon as she came back aboard she would get a stab at the both of you and probably together."

"I know, I was surprised when Admiral Noriega contacted me a few months ago with the proposal for her residency. I didn't think she would want to come back here and I was delighted to learn otherwise."

Kirk looked at his friend, and thought about the two of them practicing together. If would be a grand reunion, especially after the nightmare that they had all had to deal with regarding Nurse Platt.

"Actually, it was already in the works. Admiral Noriega is quite taken with her, and she had a most impressing rapport with him after she left her career to go look for Dr. Korby. He was pulling strings to let her do her residency here."

Dr. McCoy rocked backed on his heels and a sinister smile crept over his face, "So yeah, you two will be under her care sooner or later and besides, don't even think about going AWOL on your physicals with her. No way."

Kirk's brows knitted together in consternation at that thought. He absently rubbed a hand across his chin in contemplation. Dr. McCoy flashed a big grin at his friend.

"Well I see my work here is done. Think I'll mosey on down to Engineering and spread some of my cheer there." He left Kirk deep in thought, envisioning what the Head Nurse-Now turned Doctor would mean.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 the healing touch revised

Christine, sat in the chair by Mr. Spock's bed in the Lexington's ICU. She wanted to study the charts and think. The bypass program worked, but his organs were precarious at best. It had been three days and Spock was still in a coma. No attempt was made to bring him out until his brain activity had risen and they had arrived safely at Starbase 11. They were not traveling at high warp since everything that they needed was with them. She didn't know when he would wake up, or if it would ever happen. Her eyes seem to mist over again at the thought of him never waking up. Without thinking she touched his hand.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry Mr. Spock!" she gasped. Forgetting that any skin contact would unleash upon him, a barrage of thoughts that could quickly overwhelm him and send him spiraling down, overwhelmed her with guilt.

"I knew better and I let my emotions get the better of me."

Standing she prepared to get the base CMO to take over her charge. She couldn't let a mistake like that happen again.

_But your touch is not unwelcome and is most reassuring_.

"Okay where the hell did that thought come from." She looked down at him and as she did, felt a presence with her. Instinctively her hand went to her temple. Another thought came to her.

_Need understanding, need to convey__…_

"Convey? Convey how? Mr. Spock is that you?" thanking God that no one was walking by or they would have had her removed by reason of insanity. Coming closer to his face, she whispered, "Are you trying to tell me something, Mr. Spock?"

Another thought, dim but persistent. _Meld._

Understanding illuminated her mind. She needed to touch him to sense what he was trying to tell her. Gingerly she placed her hand over his and closed her eyes. A strong psychic wave hit her. She almost broke the contact. An impression coalesced in her mind. _Psi points on the temple._ Without thinking she took his limp hand and positioned his fingers to rest against her temple. Immediately she felt rather than heard his words.

_My mind to your mind….._

The outside world faded away and she found herself within his mind. It was different from the time she housed his conscience, but the synergism was unmistakable. She looked about her, it was dark, clouded with obscurity, little perception, and cold, very cold. She remembered his thought to her that she exuded warmth, and concentrated on that feeling. There was a noticeable brightening and it encouraged her more. She put all her mental concentration on warmth, and comfort and healing. She directed her thoughts of strength to him and felt him grasped a hold of them. She stayed that way for what seemed like an hour, when she noticed everything was starting to grow dim and that she was being forced out of his mind.

_No Mr. Spock, what are you doing? What is happening?_

_You do not realize what toll this is taking on your body. I cannot let you be harmed!_

_I am fine, you need the strength! _

_You are not fine. I will wait. Thank you Christine._

With that, the room came into focus. She noticed the base ACMO, Dr. Williams, and Drs. Bech'tesh, Ngueng, and Chavelle all gathered around with astonishment plastered on their faces. Then blackness, for Dr. Christine Chapel had slide off of the chair, passed out, and hit the floor.

When she came to she was lying on the biobed in the next room. How long had she been unconscious? She gazed around, her mind still in a fog, and saw one nurse and Dr. Chavelle discussing something on the other side of the room. The doctor's back was to Christine, but the nurse noticed movement and alerted the doctor that she was awake.

With her hand to her head and squinting at the bright lights she managed to croak out of few lines. "Uhh, how long how I been out?" She knew that mind melds could wreck havoc on the human body if they are not brief and as she remembered, Spock was pushing her out telling her she was not alright.

"Miss Chapel," Doctor Chavelle didn't even bother using her well earned title, of course he felt that recent graduates should not be privileged to call themselves doctors until they are able to set up their own practices. "You have been 'out' as you say for some ninety five minutes to be precise. I assure you that while your reasons may have seemed logical (she squinted as if in pain to his use of the word 'logical') to you, they were indeed foolish, for you may not be aware that Vulcan telepathic mind melds are incompatible with Humans. Their mental ways are strange and unpredictable, especially with a half-bred, and I for one do not think it wise to medically treat them if at all possible. The danger as one as inexperienced as yourself with that race….."

He never got to finish his xenophobic tirade for Christine cut him off. Her head pounded and she felt as if someone had thrown her off a five story building.

"Doctor Chavelle, I'm sorry if I am being a little blunt, but you do not know what the hell you are talking about!" at this point she swung her feet over the side of the bed and got down off the biobed and took a step towards him. She extended her arm and pointed towards the room where Mr. Spock was and came within inches of the nervous doctor's face.

"I have not only witnessed countless mind melds between Humans and that Starfleet officer, not as you say half breed, and not only have I not witnessed any ill effects, but I myself have been the recipient of his conscience, and did not experience any difficulties. And while Mr. Spock's heritage may be cause for medical concerns in treatment, his telepathic abilities and controls are well above those of most full blooded Vulcans. And if I ever hear you talk about him in such a demeaning way, Starfleet brass will be notified and your next assignment may just be on the mining colonies of Togosian V." At this she walked towards the room where Mr. Spock was, her legs shaking but she was determined to not let Dr. Chavelle see her in such a drained state. Yes she knew that mild melds could be very dangerous for humans, but she trusted her well being when it came to Spock's telepathic abilities.

When she came into the room, she saw a young blond putting some sheets into the laundry recycler and then looked towards the bed. Spock was carefully covered with blankets. A temperature monitor beeped softly overhead. The nurse looked over at the monitor and started to log the results. Christine could not see her face since the nurse's back was to her, but she could imagine the admiration on the young nurse's face as she looked at the lean but powerful alien under her care. She suddenly had a déjà vu moment and cleared her throat to let the nurse know someone was in the room. Hopefully she would not be going down that embarrassing and futile road that Christine had spent the better part of the last five years on. Caught, in fantasy bliss, the girl turned and shyly smiled at Christine. With her eyes downcast, clearly belying her guilt at being caught with more than professional thoughts towards her charge, she backed away from Mr. Spock's bed.

Christine held up a hand, urging the nurse to carry on with her duties. "It's alright, nurse, I'm just checking up on him. How is he responding to the plasma diffusion? Last I checked it was at 85.3 percent. Not enough to take him off but well enough to keep him stable until we can wean him off the kidney and liver bypass."

Grabbing the chart that was on the bed where she had left it, before she was discovered ogling the first officer, the nurse handed it to Christine. As Christine read the chard she turned around to look for two viles of protein serum that she had left on the tray two hours ago.

"Ma'am?" the nurse wasn't sure what she was looking for; in fact she wasn't really sure who this woman was since she had just recently come down to sickbay.

Realizing the nurse's confusion, Christine smiled brightly, "I'm sorry, this is surely strange to you, I am nur…ah Dr. Christine Chapel. I was in the observation room resting. I didn't realize I was out for so long. I was the former Head Nurse of the Enterprise before I trained as a doctor. I came from Starbase 11's medical academy to assist with the wounded. Mr. Spock was a patient of mine from time to time."

The nurse stared at her wide eyed. A look of recognition and excitement overtook her small face. "You must be Christine! I…"

Aghast with raw embarrassment, Christine threw her hands in the air. "Does the damn grapevine ever wither? I swear if I ever live…."

"Wait!" Confused over the tirade, the young nurse quickly shrunk back into herself, "I heard your name, at least I thought that's was Mr. Spock was trying to say."

At this point Christine swung around and peered intently at her, which caused the young girl to take a few steps back.

"What do you mean, tried to say?"

"Well just that, I was monitoring Mr. Spock and I could have sworn he whispered your name. When I started to talk to him to see if he was regaining conciseness there was no response. I rushed to get the Dr. Chavelle and I thought he said the word 'doctor' but I wasn't sure. Dr. Chavelle said that there was no way he would have said anything. I heard him talking to the other nurses, Brigham and Cortland, and he said something about Mr. Spock and mind control and not to get too close to him. I saw the signature on a medical file on Mr. Spock from the Enterprise that we were studying and I figured you were that nurse, uh now, doctor. It is an honor to meet you. I have read several of your biochemical papers." With that the nurse blushed with overwhelming adoration.

Christine was overcome with joy at the prospect that Spock was reaching out for her, but then she quickly felt rage against Dr. Chavelle for his callousness. She composed herself and turned to the young nurse that was staring at her.

"Uh, Nurse…." Christine started.

"Oh my! Forgive me, I'm Nurse Deanna Sanders. I just transferred here from the Potemkin."

Smiling brightly at the nurse she walked over to Spock. "Deanna, would you be a dear and ask Dr. Williams in examining room 3 if he would come in here when he is through, please?"

Nurse Sanders quickly made haste to the doorway, ever so happy to be of service to the esteemed Dr. Chapel. "Oh, yes Doctor, right away!" In a flash she was gone, her long blond ponytail swinging about her as she trotted down the hall.

No sooner than she was alone with Spock, she touched his shoulder and concentrated on warmth as she adjusted the warming blankets around him. She impressed upon Spock her apologies for being away and that she was ok. When she looked at him, she noticed the movement of his eyes and a small twitch of his mouth.

"Spock, I am here. Can you hear me?"

"No he cannot!" came the harsh response from the doorway.

Dr. Chavelle was standing there with his hands on his hips. "Miss Chapel, you may have completed your doctorate, giving you that title but you are clearly not worthy of it." Dr. Chavelle was a strict authoritarian and believed that there should be no emotional commitment to a patient because he thought that it would cloud their judgment, leading to serious medical mistakes. "I am going to recommend that you be forbidden to interfere with this patient any longer. Obviously your prior attachments to him are clouding your ability to act in a way that is medically responsible."

"How so, Dr. Chavelle? Please enlighten us." Came the answer from across the room. Nurse Sanders had brought the base ACMO, Dr. Williams, to ICU. She had told him on the way that the first officer was trying to communicate with her, but Dr. Chavelle dismissed her concerns.

"I'm sorry Dr. Williams, but I feel these ridiculous notions about Mr. Spock talking in his sleep, or coma in his situation, are just wishful thinking. Miss Chapel's lack of scientific data and her insistence on behaving in such an illogical way can be harmful to both herself and the patient."

"DOCTOR Chapel," came a new voice entering into the room. Witnessing part of the conversation, Dr. M'Benga retorted with an obvious disgust at Dr. Chavelle, continued, "has much scientific data concerning Mr. Spock's ability to project thoughts into the minds of others. Have you ever treated a Vulcan, Dr. Chavelle? Have you ever been to Vulcan and seen their healers in practice and seen what they can do? Have you ever studied medicine on Vulcan? Have you ever been the recipient of a Vulcan's care both physical and mental? Have you, Dr. Chavelle?

At this, Dr. Chavelle turned red face with embarrassment and anger for being put on notice. His obvious xenophobia was shown plain as day to all present and he had no defense available. His refusal to answer was not lost on the base ACMO or Dr. M'Benga who swiftly made his point.

"Well, I have and I guarantee you that if Nurse Sanders even remotely thought she heard Mr. Spock trying to speak, she is probably correct. Your refusal to believe that Vulcans are telepathically intertwined with their physical health may just cause more damage by ignoring their signs. I believe, Dr. Chavelle that it would be better for all if YOU would attend to the many needs of the human crewmembers aboard this ship and leave the one Vulcan to me and Drs. Williams and Chapel."

Dr. Williams always the one to placate, but his arm around Dr. Chavelle and guided him to the door. "Pierre, why don't you help me with Ward II? There are several minor surgeries that need to be performed and I need someone to assist."

"Of course, Dr. Williams. I find it would be most refreshing to surround myself with realistic medical staff." He haughtily marched out of the room.

Turning to M'Benga and Chapel, Dr. Williams clearly not happy with either of them, sighed heavily. "Look Geoff, I know that you are the expert on Vulcan-Human physiology here, hell, you are the only expert on hybrids, in the galaxy, save for Leonard of course, but please, I can't have you creating a division in the medical staff. So now that you are feeling better and rested, you and Dr. Chapel may be in charge over Mr. Spock. And understand any, and I mean any resulting problems with be yours and hers alone to answer for. You may choose two nurses for his around the clock care."

With that he left the room, and leaving Christine and M'Benga to devise a plan on their own. Christine let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank God, Geoff, you came when you did. I was about to deck him."

Slightly smiling, the quiet doctor shook his head. "That would not have been the most advantageous thing to do, fresh out of medical school."

Both turned their attention of their charge, discussing procedures and current medical readouts


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 sharing the strength revised

As soon as all the drama with Dr. Chavelle was over and Christine alone was left with Spock, she sat down in the chair next to his bed and silently read the charts. She was drained both emotionally and physically, but she wanted desperately to reconnect with him. Christine was sitting upon a precipice; she knew that all her hard work she had spent unweaving her emotional attachment to the Vulcan could easily be undone if she was not careful. In fact, every moment that she spent near and caring for him, she could feel little silken strands drawing her in. She could not however, deny, nor turn away from the fact that he needed and wanted her presence. For now, she would send comforting thoughts and strength to him, but stop short of telepathically linking with him. She realized how much she had grown in confidence and self identity when she chose not to jump at the chance that he offered her. The old Christine would have nearly killed herself to be a willing and available vessel for Spock's recovery, but the last year of soul searching and walking her own path had caused a discovery of who Christine Chapel was, and where she wanted to go in life. She had tapped into a strength that was allowing her true self to shine and those around her noticed. She felt a joy well up within her, reviving a new strength and confidence within. Without thinking, she reached over and grasped Spock's hand, and felt him respond immediately. Looking up, the monitors confirmed what she had sensed. Spock's vitals were showing an immediate improvement. But he made no move to connect with her and she did not press upon him her willingness to. For now she kept her distance and he did not seek her out or question her reticence. He did, however, send impressions of gratitude for her presence. Several times she felt the urge to press in further, but it was never as strong as that first day.

Early the next morning, Captain Matthew Harrington made a shipwide announcement that they would be approaching Starbase 11 in 4 hours and that it was time to start preparing patients and medical equipment for the transfer. Christine got up and chimed for Nurse Sanders. She wanted to get some breakfast before the transfer, for she knew that once begun, it would take the entire shift for everyone to beam over and get settled and she wanted to make sure that she stayed with Spock the entire time.

Within hours, the ship was buzzing with activity. Carts of medical equipment were lined up in the corridor. All throughout the crew decks, doorways were opened and medical personnel would be congregating at patients' quarters for last minute checks and to make sure that all charts were updated and medications that were needed were clearly indicated.

With the Lexington's crew sharing quarters amongst themselves and the Enterprises' injured occupying the afore mentioned space, it was a relief that the journey was not that long. While the Lexington could hold the same amount of crew as the Enterprise, there was now an extra 167 passengers.

Many Enterprise crew members that did not need any more medical care, or needed a simple final bone knitting treatment remain aboard the battered ship. A few had transferred over to the Potemkin to exchange places with their crew. Both captains had felt that even though many of the crew were cleared for full or light duty, it would be good for them to continue that duty on a ship that was fully functioning. The Potemkin's crew relished the swap, a chance to work on the Enterprise, even amongst the devastation, was a great honor.

Resources and space upon the Lexington was tight and creative means were used to make it more bearable. With only cramped quarters waiting, many stayed on duty far longer than needed. The hallways were crowded and since most of the recreation areas were transformed into care units and observation rooms, there was not a lot of common area to work out stress. To stay out of the way of medical personnel and patients, it seemed like overnight that entire crew formed various sports teams to take the edge off. The gym was packed, the volleyball court was in full swing constantly, and all game stations were centers of exuberant activity.

However there was one place where the anticipation of normalcy did not reach. Far below the hub of busy crewmembers, she sat quietly in the brig. For hours, she had seen no one, only the security officers remained outside her holding cell. Nothing mattered as far as her personal well being, since her mission had failed. A thousand permutations swirled around in her mind of how she could have done things differently. How many more could she have killed but didn't. The only victory that she could account for was that stupid nurse, and even that didn't count for much. And that incompetent human doctor; if only he hadn't have stopped her, she could have killed the Vulcan; that would have brought respect to her family. But now she could only seethe in self regret for the chances lost. Her thoughts interrupted by the two security officers that passed by the security field that held her captive. A sinister plan coalesced in her mind, yes; she would find a way to get free. It would not be long now.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 the escape revised

The time had come for the medical crew and their patients to disembark. After their arrival, Captain Harrington ordered that only the severely injured would transport over first. Already, Christine was preparing Spock for the transfer. All equipment and medications that he had been using was first beamed over and the Base ICU was being prepared. Transporter room 3 was the closest to sickbay with one lone corridor leading up to it. After 30 minutes, they were signaled that they were ready for the first officer. Christine, and Nurse Sanders, wheeled the gurney with Spock to the transporter room. The corridor had been cleared, so there were no prying eyes to invade Spock's privacy. The transporter tech helped them load the gurney onto the pads, and as soon as he was secured, he stepped back behind the consol to commence with the beam out. Christine closed her eyes as the room faded away, and it was now that she began to feel the heavy weight of concern over Spock's future. They were in for the long haul, and the hard work had only begun.

Back on the ship, lines formed with patients and equipment ready to transport over. Several patients on stretchers were loaded 3 at a time on the pads. Each nurse carefully checked vitals and information before they left. Upon arriving at the station, they were divided up according to severity of injury. The base had several wings ready to receive the injured, and the convalescing, and each wing had already assigned patients to their rooms, as soon as they arrived. It would take the next several hours to complete the transfer if all were to go according to plan.

The two security officers quietly talked amongst themselves. With the exception of a few whispers, the brig was quiet. A quiet beeping on the consol signaled that someone was trying to gain access to the area. One security guard broke into a big smile, realizing that their relief was here.

"Time to get out of here, Richard. Come on, let's go play some Parsarian cubes; betcha that Marci and Lorraine will be waiting for us." He was already up, and going towards the door to let in the shift change.

"I'm right behind you, Stan. I'm definitely going to whoop your butt this time." Both men laughed as they opened the door. They remained for a few moments to give their turnover notes to the new shift. It was dinner time and they would have to feed the prisoner. There was a quiet discussion and then Stan and Richard left their charge. Nurse Platt watched the new shift very closely for the next hour. Finally one of them got up and walked to the force field and observed her for a moment, unsure of himself, before speaking.

"Ma'am I will be bringing in your dinner shortly. I will ask that you please remain seated on the bunk until we are through."

She didn't respond verbally, but hung her head down. _Just look downtrodden, maybe remorseful. The more fragile__you look, the more they will let down their guard._

Putting her head on her knees, she sniffed loudly, like she was fighting back tears.

Even with her Human appearance, she possessed the strength of a Romulan, and like their Vulcan cousins, she would be a formidable foe.

The security guard eyed her cautiously.

After about 30 minutes, another security officer came into the brig with a covered dish, her lunch, and handed it off the officer that was sitting nearby at a desk. Within a few minutes he got up and motioned to the other officer. The officer that had come to her previously, again stood at the entrance.

"Ok Ma'am, like we discussed, please remain seated until we have completely reengaged the force field." With that, the one guard turned off the field, while the other stepped inside and placed the tray on a small table. He quickly backed out and the field was turned back on. Even though she had her head on her knees as if she was despondent, she secretly was counting their steps, measuring the distance, and calculating the odds for the best successful scenario.

She left the food on the table for about 45 minutes then slowly made her way across the room, playing the part of a woman about to collapse. Faking a limp and swerving like she was about to faint, she grabbed the edge of the table.

One of the guards quickly made his way over to the force field. "Ma'am, are you okay; do you need assistance?"

Pleased that her plan was working, she made no attempt to communicate. She lifted the lid to the dish and saw that there was some sort of meat and a vegetable salad. That would do nicely, and she carried the plate back to the bunk. Making sure that both of the guards saw her, she took her hand and picked up the meat and shoved it in her mouth. She had taken about six normal bites all at once, like an animal, and made a great show of trying to chew the enormous mouthful. Then she turned on the bunk and faced the wall as she lay down. The now alert guards both were standing at the cell entrance trying to see what she was doing. They could now see her back slightly jerking and they heard choking sounds.

"Ma'am, are you alright? MA'AM!"

Still making slight jerking movements, she remained silent. Her plan banked on the premise that the guards would try to render aid before they called for medics. As she had hoped, one guard turned off the force field, while the other gingerly stepped towards her. And this point, she had stopped moving and remained very still.

The one guard that was still at the entrance called to the other one. "Hey Mitch, is she breathing?" When Mitch had gotten close enough to her, he could not see her chest rise.

"Rich, I don't know man; I don't see her chest moving. Oh wow wait."

"What? What is it?" The security man had stepped inside to get a closer look at what was going on. This is what Nurse Platt had been hoping for. In what had seemed like slow motion to the guards, actually took but a split second. She had calculated by his voice where he was, relative to her, in the room. In an instant she had grabbed the plate and slung it with such force, there would have been no way to dodge it. The spinning disk had met its target and careened into the guard's face and shattered, slicing clean into his eyes and nose and subsequently knocking him out. Within seconds, she was up and grabbed the other guard by the throat, cutting off his airway. She raised her other hand and with one jerk, broke his neck. Making her way to the other unconscious guard she quickly made sure he would never wake. She took the one that was by her bunk and placed him in it and covered him. She then took her shoes off and placed them in view so that whoever entered the room would think that she had taken them off and was sleeping. She placed the other guard in a utility closet, but made sure that she first secured both of their phasers.

After cleaning the blood from the guard whose face was torn apart, she procured a plain nurse's uniform and boots, without insignia, from the replicator. This would be the same as what the Starbase students would be wearing. Since they were numerous and not everyone knew everyone else, if she was spotted by anyone, the students would think that she belonged to the Lexington's crew, and the Lexington's crew would think that she would have been from the medical academy. However, she would have to take care to be seen as little as possible. With a fresh change of shifts in the brig, hopefully no one would go down there for awhile. And if someone did, they would see that the field was still on and the make believe prisoner safely secured and asleep.

She ducked into a nearby storage closet that contained linens and some cleaning items. If discovered she would just say that she was changing patient's bedding and that a crew member told her to get them there. She didn't have to wait long. Peering out, she saw that the corridor was clear and gingerly stepped into the subdued light. Now she would be faced with the hard part. She had to make sure that no one from the Enterprise would see her since they would surely recognize her. The rumor mill was in full force, and since most of the crew loathed to see her, much less visit sickbay while she on duty, they all knew about her. Remembering the procedure when they first came aboard the Enterprise, she made her way to the transporter room. Along the way, she saw a gurney with a crewmember from the Enterprise on it and quickly ducked into a nearby room. Peaking out, she saw that the gurney had been moved, and continued on her way. Almost to the transporter room she spied a sani-shield generator that was used for surgery in the field. The unit was large, so it would be easier to hide behind it while wheeling it down the hall. She quickly grabbed it and started on her way. Turning the corner she could see a line forming and hurried as not to be held up, or where she might have someone talk to her. As she entered the room, she saw an opening on one of the pads. Being very discreet she placed the unit with a group standing behind her and got up on the pad. The group of girls were excitingly talking with one another and didn't notice the abrupt cut in. A doctor on the front pad was much taller than she, which effectively hide her from the transporter chief's view. The room faded from view and was quickly replace by the Starbase's large transporter room. She followed the group outside the room into the spacious main hall.

She now had to get off this station and she caught a glimpse of something that would be just the ticket….literally. There in front of her, was a Lenorian man and woman talking with a doctor and nurse. It was not unusual for shippers, transport carriers and alien passersby to have to stop and get medical treatment at the field hospital here. The Starbase was in fact a busy medical base since it was in the main shipping channel. She carefully positioned herself within earshot to determine if they had a vessel, and to her relief they not only had a small vessel, but were actually leaving. Apparently, the man had fallen on his small ship and broken his arm. He was within a day's journey to the Starbase and had received medical care and with his arm in resting in a sling recovering from the bone knitter, he was ready to go.

They thanked the doctor and nurse and the small group said their farewells. Maxine followed them down the hall towards the loading dock. Immensely pleased that they would not be beaming out, but launching their ship from the hangar bay, she quickly caught up with the couple.

"Excuse me; did they already install the brace for your arm on the consul?"

The two aliens looked at each other with a confused look and shook their heads. Too them, medical treatment was not very advanced on their homeworld, and in space they had been subjected to very strange technology.

"We are not familiar with that concept," came the response through the translator that the female wore upon her arm. "Please explain?"

"Oh, I'm sorry for the confusion. The base had an emergency and the orders were probably mixed up," said Nurse Platt in a most uncommon, unheard jubilant tone. "Please let me help. Let me take a look to see if maybe just a small bracket would be needed." At their hesitance she quickly added, "It will be no trouble, in fact, it is procedure and it will just take a minute."

With that the three made their move into the small craft. Maxine turned to the male and withdrew her phaser that she had taken from the security guards and pointed it at him.

"Now quickly and quietly secure the ship and get going. Do not try anything that will bring attention to us, understand?" With that she then turned the phaser to the woman, making her threat clear.

"Please we want no trouble." The injured man was clearly shaken.

"Then no trouble you will get if you do what I say. Now get moving. As soon as you clear the station, I will give you the coordinates."

The women sat close to her mate. Both seemed frail and very vulnerable. After they had cleared the space dock, she quickly instructed them of their new coordinates, very close the Neutral Zone. The journey would take five days, and even though it was in the general direction that they would have gone, they clearly would not be equipped for such a trip and would need supplies. Sensing this, Maxine tried to assuage their fears.

"When we arrive at the coordinates I will transfer to another ship. We will then give you enough supplies to make it back to your destination. I will lock out your communications and navigation systems until we reach our destination. Be warned, do not test me, if you try anything, I will kill you both." The truth of the matter was she needed them only if she encountered any Federation ships. She could not risk detection this far from home. The tiny ship could only reach Warp 3 and that couldn't be maintained for long. She had all the ship's channels scanning for any transmissions in the sector. How long it would take the Federation to discover her escape and backtrack possible places she could be hiding, was indeterminable. If they did realize that she was aboard that station and had left, there would be a search for all ships that had been there.

She would need to stay one step ahead of them.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 Terror in the fold revised

Two hours after the medical teams transferred over to Starbase 11, the Lexington was once again on their way. Captain Harrington already had debriefed his crew, spoken to the doctors that had overseen the Enterprise's First Officer's medical schedule, and prepared a basic briefing for Starfleet on his rescue mission with the injured crewmates. He looked forward to a brandy and an evening of solitude, both enjoying one of his ancient books of Talara IV and reflecting on his accomplishments for the past week. Unfortunately he would not be able to partake in either of these pastimes. An urgent message flashed ominously for his attention. Sighing, he flipped the switch hoping that the message would not be one that would again side rail his life for another portion of time.

"Harrington here, what is it Burkeman?"

Burkeman, the base's chief communications officer, winced at the acerbic tone of his commander. Painfully acquainted with the role of "Messenger," as in "don't shoot him", he hesitated before delivering such troubling news.

It only took a few minutes before all hell broke loose.

Colonel Shepherd was a grizzly, imposing figure on Starbase 11. Officially in charge of the base, he was not seen regularly but deferred any micro managing duties to the medical personnel. Base CMO Sheila Brackwaite and ACMO Kevin Williams took care of all tasks in running the station. They were most capable in delegating to their subordinates any management duties needed. The base was run efficiently and effectively. Base Chief of Security, Devineaux was just coming back to his desk with a cup of coffee when the chief petty officer came running into the office.

"Sir, we have just received news from the Lexington that the prisoner has escaped. Starfleet is pursuing the possibility that she had covertly transferred over with the medical personnel."

There was dead silence in the room. The officer was unsure as what to do; remain silent and wait, or inquire of the chief if he understood. Devineaux made quick of his decision. The order for a general alert was given and the base once again flew into action. Christine was quietly resting in her dorm room, when she heard the klaxon sound.

"My God, what now?" She jumped up and grabbed her boots which had been neatly placed besides her bed. She had left Spock resting comfortably, while she too rested and grabbed a quick shower and bite to eat. Dressing quickly she left the room and proceeded down the main corridor to the base's operations center. Out of the corner of her eye, she recognized Colonel Shepherd and both CMO and ACMO rushing into a nearby conference room. She quickly followed and Williams turning to see her stopped and met her eyes.

"Who is watching over, Mr. Spock?" he quickly inquired.

Christine's heart stopped in her chest. Why would he, under an emergency situation, which this clearly was, be inquiring about her medical charge?

"Nurse Brandon Schlerin, and Dr. M'Benga will be making rounds shortly, sir. Why?"

"It seems that the nurse that tried to kill Mr. Spock is missing."

The only response from Christine was a rather unmuffled expletative as she whirled around and hit a dead run for ICU. She swore to herself as she hit the first door to Sickbay II. "How could this have happened?"

"Excuse me, Doctor?" An obviously started nurse stated, so much that she almost dropped the tray of medical tapes she was carrying.

"Where is Brandon?" Christine was not about to explain herself for she only wanted to quell the fear and concern that threatened to overwhelm her.

"He is in with Commander Sp…."

Christine didn't wait for the reply. In fact she had no intentions of slowing down until she was satisfied that Spock was okay. Bursting into Spock's unit, Christine quickly donned the surgical garb hanging outside the decon shower. Nurse Schlerin looked up from readings and was astonished to see her coming in.

"Doctor, I thought…."

"Has anyone been in here?" Christine blurted out. "Have you been with Commander Spock the whole time?"

"No and Yes, I thought that you wanted me to be here, while you were resting, so I…." he was cut off again by the visibly shaken Doctor. Christine automatically went to Spock's bedside and observed the readouts. Satisfied that all was well, she turned as another presence hastily entered into the ward. Apparently Dr. Williams had been on her heels the whole time but she had not even paid attention to his actions. Seeing him, outside the sterile unit, she took another look at Spock and did a cursorily glance around the room before stepping out.

"How long have you known that she was missing?"

"Look Doctor, I understand how you may feel, but I just heard and was rushing to the conference room to confer with Starfleet, however, I did send a message to the base commander to put the station on high alert. I also had security dispatched to your room to be sure."

"My apologies, Doctor, but my decorum is uncertain where Mr. Spock is concerned." Christine was quickly taken aback by her declaration. _That didn't sound like something I would say? _

She slowly and silently turned towards that bed that was awash in an eerily blue glow from the steri-shield that surrounded Mr. Spock.

"If you would excuse me, I would like to tend to my patient."

"Of course," as he turned to leave the unit.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Kirk was looking up into the forward view screen with both of his fists tightly clenched.

"How in the hell could this happen, Matthew?"

Captain Matthew Harrington looked haggard and embarrassed all at the same time.

"Jim, I don't know. When Chang and Addison, went to relieve the security team for their break, they found that the security force field was still intact. Instead of reporting their comrade's disappearance immediately, they decided to try to keep them out of trouble by going to look for them. It took almost another half an hour before they discovered their bodies and the makeshift facsimile of Nurse Platt. We searched the ship before contacting you.

"Matt how long could she have been missing before the shift change team arrived?"

"It couldn't have been more than six hours, unfortunately that would have been within the same timeframe that we offloaded the medical crew and supplies to Starbase 11. There is a possibility that she transferred to the base with them without being detected. I have alerted Headquarters and Colonel Shepherd of the situation. My last transmission was that Mr. Spock is safe and well under guard."

Kirk scrubbed his face with his hands. He hated not being in control and reliant on others. While he admired their skill and expertise, he always found himself thinking of different ways of doing things, taking into consideration multiple factors and outcomes. This situation was exactly why he wanted to have Nurse Platt held in the Enterprise's brig. He believed his security teams would never have made the grievous errors that allowed her escape. But he would not be the one to state the obvious; he let his silence speak of his disappointment, while he vowed he would be taking matters into his own hand.

", I need a list of every ship that has docked and left Starbase 11 in the last 24 Standard hours."

"Yes Sir, Captain." And with that Sulu meticulously went about recording all vessels and their destinations.

Contacting Captain Lingstrom of the Potemkin, who was well aware of the disaster, they discussed a series of ideas to both hasten their journey and find the missing prisoner.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The small spacecraft had been traveling almost a day at top warp. The two Lenorians held onto each other while Nurse Platt scanned comm. channels. She decided that the best plan was to ditch the vessel as quickly as possible since Starfleet would have its documentation at the Base and the warp core signature on file. She turned to the pair and with a menacing growl approached them.

"I will need another ship, preferably one that can travel faster than this. If you value your lives, I suggest you find me one immediately. The complement of that ship's crew can join you here while I take their ship alone. I will give you two hours to find me one before I have to bring a ship to meet me. If that is the case I will destroy you and your ship. My compatriots do not want to be found out."

Believing her bluff both aliens went to work, chattering over the comm. channel while speaking amongst themselves. After about an hour, they found a small ore freighter, however it's top speed was only warp 5. There were three crewmembers aboard the ship, all Lenorian.

"We will meet up with that freighter, and you, pointing to the male, will contact them and convince two of them to beam over. I will beam over there and force the last person to come here."

There was much sadness in the eyes of the two, now huddled around the comm. station. They did not trust her to do as she promised, and sensed their impending death. Neither of them would sell out their fellow Lenorians, and quietly and quickly, they devised a plan.

The male spoke first, the translator catching most of the words. "Our engine s are to overheat. My experience is they shut down for few hours and then we be able to be restart. It is old system, but predictable. If you want to meet with other ship, you will have to bring them to us, for we will be too late to meet with them."

The tiny ship's engines were overheating but what Nurse Platt did not know was that the craft's engines were able to maintain full warp at high temperatures than the newer, faster, and sleeker vessels. It was another example of 'not making them like they used to.' It was enough to fool the nurse, who was starting to get edgy and impatient with them.

"Then I suggest that you contact them now! With that she pointed the phaser at the woman and fired."

The male screamed and went to her side. However, Nurse Platt raised the phaser at him.

"She is not dead, just stunned. Now I will reset the phaser to kill. If I feel in any way that you are trying to deceive me, I will not hesitate to kill her."

With that the male quickly stepped over to the comm. unit and prepared to contact the freighter. His heart was very heavy, for he had a taste of death even though his spouse was only stunned. He was certain that there was no way she would let them go. With that he contacted the ship and silently prayed his plan would work. Maxine came and stood next to him as if by proximity she could translate everything that was being said to scrutinize it.

The male in a shaky voice activated the sender unit. What Maxine heard was, "Sxeet codd, please help, ditt or comahack, engine, dez meet, overheating. Szina danger, zite yom kat wanber, overheating. Come closer, contact.. wet foy ziib tako permumtank, two crews come over."

Maxine's eyes glared. The universal translator was not picking up all the words but she heard enough to figure that he was relaying the message as planned. She made a cutting gesture, to tell him to cease.

He abruptly cut the connection, and turning to her, "I think understanding has come to them."

Maxine, without any warning, backhanded the small, frail alien. He faltered, and with his small hand, wiped a trickle of orangish brown fluid coming from his mouth.

"I heard much that did not come across the translator. What exactly did you say?"

"I say no thing other than our talk. They are from a place more far away. Their speak is difference words for some things, that is all. "

The Lenorian man abhorred the ideal of lying, even when it helped save his life. However, he couldn't quite meet his own conscience when it came to his wife. He was playing a dangerous game. He employed strange Lenorian slang words, interspersed within the sentences to convey his dilemma. What he said was, "We're held captive, please help, wants your ship, told her engine overheating, we are in danger of death. contact the Zettacal (which was spelled out, which was an older word for the Federation.) She wants two of you to come over, we must stall for time."

"So what is there answer? Will they come to us? Or will you die?"

Thinking quickly so that he could ensure the other ship's crewmembers he, held up his hand.

"They will help, but transporter is not working, they will come close." He faltered and then looked at the still body of his spouse. "They will come close and step aboard."

Maxine drew in a slow breath. "When they dock you will encourage all three to come in. I will quickly step through the docking corridor and disengage, from the other side. You better ensure that my plan will work without incident."

The small Lenorian male hung his head and slightly nodded.

On the Lenorian freighter, the crew quickly and covertly contacted the Federation to apprise them of the situation. While it took the couple's ship an entire day to get to where they were, the Lexington could arrive at the same coordinates within 2 hours at high warp. They were quickly dispatched to the ship.

Unfortunately for the Lenorians, they had discovered that their ships docking ports were not compatible. Furious that she was trapped, she grabbed the small male and started to strangle him. His gurgled voice was the only thing to stop her.

He croaked out a plea, "Please, I can fix. Will not take time much."

"How long!" she screamed

"Maybe under eight geano…..," he thought for a minute, "2 standard hours?"

At the look on her face he shrunk into himself, "maybe less?"

She knew that she had no choice but needed to keep the illusion of that she had an alternate way of escape to leverage herself.

"I will check your progress, and if within one standard hour, if I do not feel you have progressed enough for me, I will call my friends in hiding and we will destroy both you and your friends."

With that she went the other side of the small control room and sat down.

"I let them know I be building larger port so they stay?"

"They better stay or you will die!"

Again he contacted the freighter and let them know what he was going to do. With interspersed Lenorian words it was communicated that the Federation ship with dispatched and would take 2 hours to reach them. While Maxine was using a small data padd , the male managed to flip a switch that would leave the comm. unit open. He was also devising another way to distract her, but it repulsed him. He would forever be a changed being if he lived and deceived her. Deceit was so foreign to the Lenorians, it was no wonder they chose not to associate with any other species other than their own. He quickly set to the task. There was an outer shell on the hull which would allow for the portal to be augmented to accommodate another ship.

"I will work now, yes?"

Grunting out an affirmative, Maxine continued to study the data padd, not looking up. She did not notice him turning a dial that would lower the pressure in the compartment slowly but considerably.

"Please, you seat at controls? Watch?" He hastily got up; wishing her to sit down in what would be a very plush and comfortable chair. Lenorians bone structure made it painful for them to remain seated for many hours, so they remedied the distress by creating incredibly cushiony seating arrangements. However they still preferred to stand whenever possible and did not tire easily.

Maxine got up and sat down into the chair. She had been sitting or lying or hard surfaces for too long. Allowing herself this indulgence would not come to any harm. The chair was slightly tilted back, attaining an even more relaxing position. Not wanting to be seen as unguarded, she sharply looked at the Lenorian.

"What are you waiting for, get moving!" she snapped at him.

He turned from her, and glancing at his wife, who now had curled into a sleeping position with her hand tucked under her head, he made his way to the rear of the vessel. He wondered when she had done that. She looked like she was sleeping, but he did notice that her muscles were taunt as if she was stressed.

With him out of her site, she settled into the chair. She was more tired than she let on and allowed herself the luxury to lean back and read what she had been researching. After about 20 minutes, and hearing the rhythmic banging of the Lenorian's workings, she decided that it would not hurt if she closed her eyes for just a minute. What she didn't know was that the Lenorians had mastered the art of hypnosis with the aid of music and drumming in particular. It was one of the reasons that they had never advanced very far in medical standards held by other races, because they felt no need to. Their drumming could induce a healing trance to even the psi-nil species of the galaxy. The male knew that if he could place her in a comfortable place and under the guise of working he could lure her into a deep sleep. But to make sure he would lower the environmental atmosphere, guaranteeing that she would not wake up prematurely, sealing their doom.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Kirk smashed his hand down on the table.

"Too many mistakes!" Seething with frustration over being onboard a crippled ship while his best friend was lying critical light years away, a botched prisoner transfer, and now knowing that the Lexington was back on her way to the sector to yet rescue another ship's crew, because of his mistake.

Captain Lingstrom had beamed over to the Enterprise, to spend time trying to soothe the anguished Kirk. He and Kirk passed the time playing chess and discussing the Romulan situation. Patterns started to form in the long arduous days. The Captains would take turns beaming over to each other's ship for breakfast and discuss various subjects. During the day each would see to their own ships' business and then each evening the senior officers would meet for dinner. The two crews, intermingled, threw impromptu parties to relieve the stress of constantly trying to keep the Enterprise in one piece while getting home, and all the while avoiding any trouble. On the journey home, it was discovered that the ship was in much more critical shape than first though. Along with the sheared off nacelle, the relays that were intricately intertwined with the power flow had been shorting out. But since the sensors that regulated flow was attached to the nacelle that was now gone, the runaway effect of power with no place to go was building into a feedback loop. That in turn was causing a back pressure to strain the anti-matter chamber. While Scotty had foreseen many of the problems and had cut all power even into the standing struts, the matter stream still existed. Now they could not even use the remaining nacelle to travel intermittently in warp. They had only shaved off about a week of travel with the few spurts of warp 1 that they could muster, and now with stops to fix the beleaguered ship, they were back to their original projected arrival. Both engineers of the two ships were collaborating on an unprecedented experiment in which the Potemkin would try to envelope the Enterprise with a wide tractor beam and the Enterprise would do the same. It would create a type of piggyback effect where as the Potemkin could slowly build speed, avoiding much of the strain that it would endure, and letting the momentum carry both intertwined ships to possibly achieve warp 2. If they succeeded they would arrive eight weeks ahead of their now dismal ETA. It was a risky venture, with much at stake on both sides. The Potemkin could be crippled, thus leaving two of the Federation's prized vessels vulnerable.

Early the next morning, while Captains Kirk and Lingstrom, were enjoying their ritual breakfast, the communication whistle brought some very strange news. However the story took a strange twist, leaving both Captains astonished and overjoyed. Apparently, a Lengorian ship had sent a distress signal that a pirate was trying to hijack a neighboring vessel. The Lexington was about 2 hours away and was dispatched. It was then learned who the hijacker was, and employing stealth mode, the Lexington informed Starfleet of the situation. What they found when they arrived, was a very clever plan in motion that had foiled once again, the nurse's attempt to destroy innocent lives. The heavily sleeping nurse had been beamed directly into the Lexington's brig.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

As the normal atmosphere had brought her back to conciseness, she was both confused at her surroundings, thinking she had been dreaming everything then quickly turned violent. Screaming and throwing items against the forcefield, her eyes were those of a maniac.

"I WILL KILL ALL OF YOU…YOU HERE ME! ALL OF YOU!"

Like a feral animal she flung herself at the forcefield, each time being catapulted away and landing on her backside. It did not deter her, for she got up, yelling obscenities, and repeated the useless action. The security team stared at her and said nothing. They were still grieving over their friends' murders committed by this woman. For all they could care, she could die right here in the holding cell. One stepped closer to the forcefield and with hatred in his eyes, said just that.

"You murderous bitch! Mitch Castillo was one of my best friends, and you ripped his face off. You should be grateful that we are not just beaming your treacherous ass into space. And don't even think of trying to deceive us, you will get no sympathy here."

With that he walked back to his desk, and sat back, crossed his arms and stared at her. She sat down, still seething knowing all the while that it was the end of the line for her.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Two weeks and 4 days after the Lexington had brought all the wounded to Starbase 11, Mr. Spock showed the first signs of stirring. Christine was confident that he would make a full recovery, but the waiting was excruciating. That day Christine had decided that if Spock needed to communicate with her, she would be available. She told Nurse Sanders to carefully watch the monitors as she pulled the chair up close to the bed. Leaning against the bed, she took his hand and cleared her mind. What seemed like forever, a faint glowing illuminated her mind. It was not urgent or a needing perception, just a presence like a surrounding barrier. Something else within Christine's own mind struck that as familiar but couldn't complete the memory. It was more like an impression that she had felt this before but couldn't figure out where or when. The presence lingered and she felt herself sliding gently out of his mind. She opened her eyes and felt a drain in her conscience. Looking at Nurse Sanders she noticed the nurse seemed agitated.

"How long have I been sitting here?" Her head felt so heavy and her speech slow.

"Almost 45 minutes, Doctor Chapel. You were so still that I was afraid you had stopped breathing."

"It seemed like only a few minutes. I am going to lie down for a bit." At the nurse's startled look, Christine waived her off, "I'm ok, just a little tired. Please continue to monitor Mr. Spock and contact me or Dr. M'Benga if any changes occur."

"Yes Doctor." And with that Christine gingerly got up and smiled at Nurse Sanders, then slowly walked to her dormitory. Once inside, she changed into a pair of sweat pants and t-shirt. Her sleeping area in the dormitory was sparse to say the least. The tiny room was even smaller than her quarters on board the Enterprise. A bed and desk with a chair was the only furniture in the room. A small lamp on the desk illuminated the space. A built in locker had room for books and a few hanging clothes. Anything else had to share space with two shelves within the locker. The door opened to a small hallway where the other sleeping areas were connected and they all shared a common room. Today there was no one in the common room, thankfully, Christine thought as she crawled under the sheets, yawning and ready for a good long nap. As she felt herself sinking into sleep, she smiled at the thought that she didn't have overwhelming feelings for Mr. Spock. In fact, she didn't have feelings about anything since the rendezvous with the Enterprise. There seemed to be a wall, a barrier, that surrounded her and she could look at every situation objectively. Christine had always been a very passionate person, but since she learned about Roger's fate, her feelings did not govern her actions like they did most of her life. It was freeing, this way of thinking, not to be ruled by your passions, not to be overwhelmed by feelings. Except for when she left the Enterprise for med school, did she experience strong emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. She was so distraught those first several months; in fact, the only way she could alleviate that hell was to throw herself into her schoolwork. She couldn't remember thinking about anything except for studying, which was fine with her since it got her a prestigious place in academia because of her grades. It was only when they medically assisted the Enterprise, that she could function again without distraction, even in the dire situation with the Enterprise's crew. It was as if that barrier, that wall against strong emotion, was built again…..

"What the hell!" Christine's eyes flew open and she sat straight up in bed. She realized what was so familiar, but couldn't place, when she was with Mr. Spock. It was that feeling of an emotional barrier, or shield that was erected around her. It was that same wall that came crashing down when she beamed over to Starbase 11 the first time, when she thought she was going to go crazy. The enormous grief and anguish that she felt, that had been missing for those several weeks after Exo II. It was same wall she felt when she entered Spock's mind that first day and had remained with him. The same wall she felt just an hour ago, when she was in his room.

She quickly got up and stomped out of the room. Slinging to door open to the ICU room, Nurse Sanders twirled around with a yelp at the sudden commotion.

"Nurse Sanders, could you leave us alone, please?" The look on her face must have startled the young girl because she seemed frozen in place, her mouth agape, and eyes as big as saucers.

"I'm serious Deanna, out!"

Taking a few steps backwards towards to the door, and a mumbled, "yes ma'am", she was quickly uprooted and gone.

Christine, with her hands on her hips, started pacing back and forth. She stopped, crossed her arms, and slightly started tapping her foot for a few seconds before continuing with her pacing. Finally she stopped again and strode over to the bed.

"It was you, all along." Not yet initiating physical contact, she continued. "At first I couldn't figure it out, why I was so unemotional when I should have been a basket case. But it was you shielding me, and without my permission. You son of a bitch, do you know what I went though when the carpet was yanked out from under me? And then to see you like this, and still not overreact. I thought it was me, me growing up, me getting over you, and me handling it all on my own, but no, I'm just as screwed up as ever! You are so lucky, I'm not linked with you because so help me, I would fry all of your circuits mister!"

_Are you quite finished, Dr. Chapel?_

"Whaaah…", Christine slapped her hands over her ears and squished her eyes shut. "La la la la, I can't hear you!"

_Please, Christine that is so beneath you._

With that she grabbed his hand ready to mentally spar with him. However, she almost passed out when Mr. Spock opened his eyes, raised one eyebrow, and looked right at her.

"SPOCK!" All was forgotten in that instance and Christine jumped for joy. She was overwhelmed to see those beautiful mahogany eyes stare back at her. She was also floored to see that he was giving her his typical not quite smile.

At that moment, Dr. M'Benga walked into the room. Smiling when he saw the finally now conscience First Officer, he clasped his hands together.

"Mr. Spock, it is so good to see you awake. How do you feel?"

Assessing his physical sensations, he turned his attention to the doctor. "I seem to be functioning adequately, Doctor. However, I do perceive limited muscle atrophy along with sluggish response timing."

"Mr. Spock, you have been in a medical coma for 4 ½ weeks. You have nearly died on several occasions and until now, we were not even sure of your mental status."

Spock pondered this for a few moments, seemingly checking his mental capacity. "I believe Dr. M'Benga that my mental acuity is undamaged, but it is also weakened from lack of use."

"Well that is to be expected. It is going to take time for you to gain your strength, both mentally and physically." Dr. M'Benga adjusted a few of the medications that were still intravenously being given, and checked Mr. Spock's range of motion and muscular strength. "I am going to warn you, Mr. Spock, that you have a moderately long road of recovery before you. You will need consistent physical rehabilitation to regain your strength and agility. We will help you through this tough time."

"Thank you, Doctor, I will endeavor to work hard and I look forward to that time which I will no longer be needed medical services."

Turning Dr. M'Benga addressed Christine. "Dr. Chapel, I am impressed with your steadfast patience and care that you have shown to Mr. Spock. I have no doubt that your willingness to go beyond medical necessity in nurturing a mental bastion of stability, despite the effects on yourself, has been a key factor in Mr. Spock's recovery, and I will be noting it in my medical logs."

Looking at Mr. Spock Christine noticed that he had his head cocked to one side, as if he found it most amusing. It was all she could do not to roll her eyes at him.

"I'm sure if the tables were turned, Mr. Spock would do the same, as if he knew what was best."

Dr. M'Benga's face brows knitted together in a most confused look. Without inquiring further, he walked out of the room, while looking at one then the other one. Christine could see him out of the corner of her eye shaking his head. As soon as he cleared the threshold, Christine slowly walked over to Mr. Spock. Spock raised both his brows, pulled the sheet up slightly and swallowed hard. She bent over; her face barely inches from his, her eyes sapphire flames, and mouth drawn in a tight line. She spoke in a low, slow voice.

"Right now, I don't know what I'm feeling. I'm mad as hell, happy as a lark, and feeling totally off balanced concerning what I've realized. I want to scream, cry, laugh…..everything. You are awake, so now I am overjoyed. My head hurts, I'm exhausted, and I probably look like I've haven't had a decent nights' rest in ages. Before I let you rest for the evening, is there anything that you would like to add to my kaleidoscope of thoughts? "

Spock didn't say anything or look away. He did have something to add though. With the little remaining strength he possessed, he reached up, splayed his hand behind her head, and pulled her the remaining few inches to him for their lips to meet.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Looking into his eyes, Chapel felt herself falling helplessly into the abyss she so dreaded. The past few years she had managed to make a name for herself, hell, she was sought after by many academias and universities. She had more importantly severed her deep emotional attachment to the First Officer. For the first time in many years, she felt in control of her life. And now this kiss, not of her initiation, by Spock himself, could threatened to undo everything that she worked so hard to create.

Quickly backing away, she shocked her head.

"No, not again!" Tears started to threaten.

"Christine, please." Spock was still too weak to continue a conversation. "I need to show you, let you see that this is not some fleeting whimsy on my part. I have had a strong connection to you for many years. However, I could not act on that desire since I was bonded. I knew your feelings for me, but I couldn't respond. I had told you once that I was "sorry", but I don't think that you understood. Every time we interacted, I was reminded of that war and its implications in both our lives. Even after my divorce to T'Pring, I couldn't come to you. I had felt like a failure and my ego, and yes I do have one, was severely bruised. It took at least a year before I could even consider the possibilities. I had always kept you in my thoughts. There was a time that I didn't think you were interested in me anymore. You managed to interact with the greatest of decorum. For that I am most impressed."

Christine crept very slowly back to Spock's side and sat down in the chair beside the bed. The two of them just looked into each other's eyes. Spock moved first; slowly reaching his hand across the bed, long slender fingers seeking contact with her skin. She met him half way, lightly letting her fingers glide over the tops of his, feeling the heat permeate her skin and allowing a wave of psychic emanations to reverberate off of her. Vulcans were a powerful race, both physically and telepathically, and she yearned to give into the safety of his care, but she struggled between her perception of freedom and a fulfilling of her desires. Spock sensed this, turned his hand over to interlock their fingers. He now dared to show his power and mastery of his race, and with a look into Christine's crystalline blue eyes, lovingly, but purposely wrapped tendrils of mental enchantment about her. He then seductively caressed her mind, soothing her into a more pliable state of mind. It was the time to set all questions aside, make the declaration and take the next step. There were no more obstacles to overcome, no more meditation on the subject, for logic would be found solid and fear would be wanting.

Christine found herself in a place she never in her wildest dreams would imagine. That Spock would engulf her with such commanding presence and passion. It was almost sexual in nature, a raw stirring of elements that threatened to overwhelm her. Blushing, she tried to take a mental step back and found she couldn't. She was completely and helplessly paralyzed by him. Never did she realize the scope of Vulcan prowess. A small spark of fear threatened her once again, this time in the knowledge that she had no control and that whatever she believed about Spock and what lied beneath his cool exterior was going to come crashing down around her. She had nothing except faith that whatever this being was going to do to her, it would be gentle and not dangerous. She would live.

Shocked at her own fearful thoughts that bodily harm could come to her while in his grasp, she began to question the desire of her heart. Did she really know this man or what he stood for? Did she misjudge everything that brought her to this place?

A mental image started to take form before her. A small reddish, glowing ember of light stood before her. It grew it clarity until she could see a raging fire growing, and all around it was the stuff that nightmares were made of. Intense desires and appetites, with the power to exercise them onto others. Passions filled her mind, and violence…..

"_Oh my God, what violence one can inflict both physically and mentally."_

At this point Christine feared greatly for her life. Spock had placed her in the maelstrom of the Vulcan heart, the place where he wanted to share. The knowledge of how dangerous a Vulcan could be if he let millennia of disciplines slip for but a minute, and how she fantasized about what a magical place it would be. But no, this was the reality of which he was and an even greater awe and appreciation for the control he wielded in keeping it suppressed. Never again would she give into childish daydreams of fairytale princes and being whisked away by her dark knight. How she feared for Dr. McCoy's absolute ignorance in taunting the Vulcan, knowing that only a small breach could mean his death.

And what about her? Could she deny Spock? Ancient Vulcan women would never even think of ending their lives in such a horrible way as what the revenge that would be exacted to them. She shuddered to think of the stripping of her mind and ravished soul that would no doubt be left if thousands of years had not passed in his evolution. But he still carried that violence within; buried beneath layers and layers of meditation and mental disciplines. However, even with all the terror that he now laid bare in front of her, she still desired him.

"That is what this is about. You want to take me to the core of your being, and if I could stand in its fiery hell and still desire you, there would be no mistaken of a solid bond of trust."

Sapphire met obsidian, and she felt her heart thumping rapidly within her chest. A new paradigm had been thrust at her. She now had to make a choice; an informed choice of what she would be subjecting herself to. There were reasons for all the rituals and day to day expectations of the Vulcan people. The seemingly subjugation of women to their husbands now took on a whole different meaning. This was not something to fault as hypocrisy of infinite diversity but to uphold as incredible genius on their part to survive.

At this Christine ceased to struggle against her captor. He needed to show her this raw power. She needed to show that she accepted and trusted him. She let herself go slack and relax in his mental embrace, opening herself to whatever he wanted. It was them that she discovered he no longer held her and even their fingers did not intertwine anymore. Still shaken to her core, Christine stepped back with new admiration for the being she thought she knew. Mentally chastising herself for her egocentric view that she held and that no humans, save a few, really understood this magnificent race of people.

Looking down at his face, Christine noticed a tranquil veil come over him as he slipped into a deep sleep. He had exhausted his reserves to bring them to this point, but now when all was said that needed to be, he let his body succumb to the healing deep sleep he needed.

Christine back out of the room, motioning Nurse Sanders over, who had discreetly backed away from the observation window and was busying herself at the nurse's station.

"Please continue to monitor Mr. Spock. He is now conscious but fast asleep, so you may observe him through the window and the use the proxy medical readout panel here. I don't want him to be left unsupervised, however, I don't want him knowing he is supervised, if you catch my drift." With that she winked at the nurse.

"No problem, Dr. Chapel, I can be very stealthy." She blushed at the admission, not wanting to be found out or labeled as nosey.

With a sly smile, Christine gave her a knowing sideways glance. "Yeah I bet you can..Your secret safe with me." Christine made her way to her dorm, where she would take a much needed nap. Along the way back to the rooms, she crossed paths with Dr. M'Benga who momentarily sought to deter her with a stack of papers.

Christine held up her hand in protest. "No way, Greg! Stop right there. I'm exhausted and need to lie down. I am not reading or signing anything."

M'Benga smiled knowingly. "Oh I'm sure that you want to look these over and sign them, Christine."

"And how the hell would you think I would want to do that?"

"Because, Christine, these are the medical authority papers stating that you would be Mr. Spock's medical doctor in charge of all his needs and more importantly, if he is release to another facility, which I believe will be the case, it would release you from any and all obligations that would interfere with that care. That includes being separated or held back from any institution, even if it means your temporary assignment to Vulcan, as consult if he chooses to go home for rehabilitation."

Christine was momentarily stunned. She was being given her first official patient. Of Course Drs. McCoy and M'Benga would be consultants, but both believed that she had all the available education and practical experience regarding Spock, now that he was out of critical danger but only needed long term care. She also knew that Spock must have maneuvered her placement, given his declaration of intent an hour earlier. He knew that he would need her, wanted her to be close to him and could not see the logic in not requesting her medical care as well. How logically and efficiently he had thought the process out and executed his plan. She didn't know whether to feel absolutely flattered and irritated that he pegged her response to be favorable to him. She felt her face burning with anger and grabbed the papers out of Dr. M'Benga's hands.

"Well, I'll look them over and decide if it's a good move for my career." She turned and stomped down the hall. M'Benga laughed to himself and shook his head.

'Yes, I'm sure you will,' he chuckled to himself.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Starfleet took pity on Kirk, or more like they couldn't take his constant howling over the disregard for his ship and crew. Happy to let him continue the rest of his 10 week journey home, Nogura hypothesized that longer Kirk stayed in command of a fledgling Starship, the shorter time span he would have to get into trouble. However, even Nogura knew how important the Enterprise was and had already cleared the docks and recalled back to Headquarters, all the engineers he could spare. It would be a massive undertaking to refit and rebuild the Enterprise in a much shorter time.

Three tug ships were dispatched to meet up with the Potemkin and Enterprise to aid in the towing efforts. With three other specialized tractor beams, the ships could increase their speed tremendously. The ETA was now pushed up to 6 weeks, and that would still be considered a rush to be prepared for her arrival. It would still take at least much of eight months in dry dock for the refit to take place. Kirk was musing to himself what that would mean for him and his crew. Obviously many would transfer to other ships, while many would be reassigned to planetside jobs. But what would happen after that much time had elapsed? Would his senior staff return after the allotted time or would they elect to stay on their reassignments if given the chance. There were so many what ifs that his head was starting to ache. He thought about calling Captain Lingstrom over for a game of chess.

About that time McCoy burst into the room with an expression that was a mixture of astonishment and jubilee.

"Woah there Bones, your blinding me with a countenance of pure joy. What could be worth that much happiness in this dismal situation please tell? I could use some joy about right now."

"I just got off the line with Christine, and you are never gonna believe what has happened!" he shouted with pure bliss.

Down the hallway, a young ensign was carrying a anti grav unit full of spectrometer plates. He found himself bent over a tipped unit that had sent a dozen or so plates to the ground with a crash. It wouldn't help to explain the fact that he had panicked with fear over the sudden screams and hoots of joy coming from the doorway he had just passed, sending him toppling over the anti-grav unit. Hoots of joy that were coming from the two men, celebrating the most joyous news.

The end..


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Starfleet took pity on Kirk, or more like they couldn't take his constant howling over the disregard for his ship and crew. Happy to let him continue the rest of his 10 week journey home, Nogura hypothesized that longer Kirk stayed in command of a fledgling Starship, the shorter time span he would have to get into trouble. However, even Nogura knew how important the Enterprise was and had already cleared the docks and recalled back to Headquarters, all the engineers he could spare. It would be a massive undertaking to refit and rebuild the Enterprise in a much shorter time.

Three tug ships were dispatched to meet up with the Potemkin and Enterprise to aid in the towing efforts. With three other specialized tractor beams, the ships could increase their speed tremendously. The ETA was now pushed up to 6 weeks, and that would still be considered a rush to be prepared for her arrival. It would still take at least much of eight months in dry dock for the refit to take place. Kirk was musing to himself what that would mean for him and his crew. Obviously many would transfer to other ships, while many would be reassigned to planetside jobs. But what would happen after that much time had elapsed? Would his senior staff return after the allotted time or would they elect to stay on their reassignments if given the chance. There were so many what ifs that his head was starting to ache. He thought about calling Captain Lingstrom over for a game of chess.

About that time McCoy burst into the room with an expression that was a mixture of astonishment and jubilee.

"Woah there Bones, your blinding me with a countenance of pure joy. What could be worth that much happiness in this dismal situation please tell? I could use some joy about right now."

"I just got off the line with Christine, and you are never gonna believe what has happened!" he shouted with pure bliss.

Down the hallway, a young ensign was carrying a anti grav unit full of spectrometer plates. He found himself bent over a tipped unit that had sent a dozen or so plates to the ground with a crash. It wouldn't help to explain the fact that he had panicked with fear over the sudden screams and hoots of joy coming from the doorway he had just passed, sending him toppling over the anti-grav unit. Hoots of joy that were coming from the two men, celebrating the most joyous news.

The end..


End file.
